| Subject: This Masquerade, Part 1 |
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lauraloo
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Date Posted: 06:22:05 12/05/02 Thu
Title: This Masquerade, Part 1
Author: lauraloo
Rating: pg-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing Cupid
Summanr: This explores what should have happened after the Lifeline episode ended.
We tried to talk it over
but the words got in the way.
We’re lost inside
this lonely game we play…
This Masquerade
Friday 2030 Local
Admiral Chegwidden’s House
McLean, VA
Was there a name for people like her?
Did a word exist to describe what she had done? She searched the dictionary of her mind, of her experiences, and still came up with nothing. No word, no phrase could accurately portray the painful fact that, at her own party; at this celebration thrown in honor of her engagement to one man, Sarah Mackenzie had kissed another.
Now, as the Admiral presented the cake to the group of well-wishers, she barely managed to stand between these two men. Mic, at her left, planted a soft kiss on her bare shoulder. But she was unable to give more than the slightest notice to this display. How could she? How could she think, how could she even function when Harmon Rabb Jr. was there at her right; the back of his hand positioned next to hers, brushing it ever so slightly?
Breathe, Dammit! She had to breathe.
The strange heat pouring forth from his hand only added to her state of emotional frenzy. Yes, they had left the porch in peaceful, calm resignation. But now, the delayed reaction of it all fell upon her. Without warning, the aftermath of the moment they’d just shared had blown through every inch of her body, threatening to utterly consume her. She felt the bile rising in her throat, the tears pressing mercilessly against the rims of her eyes.
God, how she wanted to run. She just wanted to flee from this blur of music and voices into her own solitary corner and scream, falling to the ground, pooled in her own emotions.
But she had to do this. This was her duty.
Mac summoned all of her strength, every ounce of her marine resolve to just get herself through this night, through the raw awkwardness of this moment. She begged her knees to stop shaking.
Breathe, just breathe…
Mac broke through the blurry haze that swallowed her vision and saw the people standing around her. They were gathered in a circle; their faces beaming with pride and joy. These were her only friends. She loved these people. How could they not know what she’d done?
“And you have somebody that loves you…”
She now knew what Hester Prynne must have felt like; forever branded with the shame of her indiscretion. Though Sarah Mackenzie would wear no red letter on her chest, she did possess her own enduring symbol. Her lips would forever be imprinted with the simple, glorious feel of him. With the sweet taste of him. She would display these things upon her heart.
And wear another man’s ring on her hand.
“What did you say?”
“That Brumby was right”
“About what?”
“About some people being in love with you.”
“What people?”
God help her, she had to stop this. She had to put it out of her mind before she did something foolish; something that would embarrass her, or Mic, or…hell, what had that kiss been? Hadn’t that been the most foolish thing she’d ever done? Damn her, damn that Commander! Since the day she’d met him, he’d invaded her thoughts, her dreams…and now, couldn’t she just be happy? Couldn’t she even attempt to get married without him…without him just THERE, complicating everything; forcing her to question things that should not be questioned.
Or should they?
Mac shuddered involuntarily as the contact of hands was broken. Tiner held out plates of cake to the two of them. She accepted hers cautiously, not even sure of her ability to hold herself upright.
Before turning to follow Renee to the punch bowl, Harm stole a brief look at her, nodding once; the depth of his expression tightly wrapped into a small, toothless smile. His eyes were black, tinged with a hint of sadness that was impossible for him to hide.
“Ma’am…ma’am…”
She whipped around to face the man in front of her, unable to control the paper plate trembling slightly in her hand. “Yes, Tiner. I’m…I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay, ma’am. I was just saying that I chose the cake flavor especially for you. I once overheard that chocolate mousse with raspberry filling is your favorite.” He paused, looking down at her uneaten slice. “I hope it’s all right.”
Mac took a deep breath, stifling the tears somehow roused again by this simple, thoughtful gesture. “Yes, Tiner, thank you. It’s just lovely,” she whispered, voice cracking with emotion.
She took a small bite, forcing a smile that satisfied the worried petty officer.
From his position in the kitchen doorway, Admiral Chegwidden observed his chief of staff. Something just wasn’t right. Sarah Mackenzie was here, beautifully dressed, her fiancé at her side as the guests of honor at his home. Yet, she looked weary, drained. Hell, she looked like she belonged at a funeral.
It was not his place to meddle. He did it anyway. “Colonel, are you feeling all right? Can I get you something?”
Before Mac could attempt to utter a word, Mic chimed in, rubbing her shoulders.
“No worries, Admiral. This is just a big step for the two of us. It’s normal to feel a little emotional at your engagement party. Isn’t that right, luv?”
This was not the first time Mic had taken it upon himself to answer for her. But this time, it had been a welcome blessing. Inadvertently, Mic had handed her a lifeline of her own.
Mac nodded, leaning into him slightly. “Yes. I’m completely fine. Really, sir. I guess this is all a little overwhelming…in a good way, I mean.” A nervous giggle escaped her mouth.
“Well, Colonel, that’s certainly understandable. Um… please excuse me one moment,” A.J. muttered, disappearing into the kitchen. If he’d expected it before, now he was surely convinced of two things. Sarah Mackenzie was hiding something and Mic Brumby was totally clueless. Something had happened while Mac and Rabb were on his porch. And for some reason, perhaps one that would likely lead to his peril, he wanted to know what.
“Tiner!” he yelled to his yeoman who was half-way out the kitchen door with a trash bag.
Mac bit the corner of her lip, wondering if the Admiral had seen through her words, being as the truth had been totally absent from them. Despite this, she began to feel a semblance of control return to her mind and body. This would work. She would get through this night, through these emotions. And then everything would be normal again. Things would go on as planned.
She glanced furtively at Harm, seated on the piano bench with Renee. No matter how hard she tried, there was one truth she could not escape; one terrible fact that could not be erased.
For on this night, her only sensation of pleasure had come from one beautiful, forbidden act of deceit. And her only morsel of comfort had come from words she’d hidden behind, as a mask made of lies.
***
“Harm, you know the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced I should’ve worn a red dress tonight,” Renee Peterson said to the man sitting beside her; the man who’d virtually ignored her all evening.
“Hmm? Yeah.”
She let out a sigh of frustration, tapping her heel on the floor in staccato fashion. “I mean, maybe if I’d been wearing a red dress, it might’ve been easier for you to spot me in this enormous crowd.”
“Uh huh.”
Renee was not amused. This was worse than she’d originally thought. “Well, Harm, as it turns out, on the way over here, I saw a flying saucer. Aliens tried to abduct me, right there on the beltway.”
“Mmm hmm.”
She elbowed him in the ribs, whispering fiercely, “What the hell is wrong with you? You haven’t heard a word I’ve said! Am I invisible or something?”
Startled by the pain in his side, Harm clicked his brain into ready-mode. He looked at Renee, at the mixture of hurt and anger forming her expression. He felt guilty, as well he should’ve.
“Renee, I’m sorry. It’s been a long day. I’m just preoccupied with a case right now.” He took her hand, squeezing it affectionately, hoping she wouldn’t press him for more details. Knowing full well that she would.
She raised her eyebrows in suspicion. “Hmm, a case. You were out there with Mac, practically the whole party, talking about work?” She punctuated her question with a swift flick of her hand.
Harm nodded, still unsure how much Renee really needed to know. “Look, we were trying to reach an amicable agreement,” he replied calmly, then chuckled lightly, the fated conversation re-playing for the millionth time in his mind. “The settlement was sort of a wedding gift.”
Renee could think of a few “gifts” she’d like to give Mac right about now – a trip to a Vegas wedding chapel for two, a transfer to JAG Australia, effective immediately… Would these things be enough to retrieve her boyfriend from his perpetual vacation in Mackenzie-Ville?
Would anything?
Renee looked at Harm squarely, trying not to be sucked in again by his penitent gaze, by his amazing features. Damn him. “Look,” she said with renewed dignity, “maybe I’ll let you make it up to me. I have tomorrow free and you’d better as well. It’s gonna be a day of shopping, museum-hopping and dinner at a nice restaurant. I’m talking La Tours here.”
Harm considered this an easy penance, in view of the circumstances. “Deal,” he replied with a nod, grabbing her coffee mug, “I’ll just get us a refill.”
Out of guilt, he turned back briefly to look at Renee, who smiled at him from across the room. It was terrible, but he felt sorry for her. He’d been an ass all evening and she’d done nothing wrong. None of this was her fault.
It wasn’t her fault that his mind was and had been elsewhere, not to mention his lips, his hands, his heart…; no, they belonged to the woman whose skin felt like fine silk, the one who’d worn his suit jacket, strewn about her shoulders. They belonged to the woman whom he’d pressed hard against his body, the one who made the softest murmur in the back of her throat when he’d kissed her. It wasn’t Renee’s fault she wasn’t Sarah Mackenzie.
As he filled his mug, he saw this woman, dancing to the strains of Tony Bennett with her fiancé. He’d lost her. Could he accept this? Could he follow the advice of that blasted song?
“If you can’t be with the one you love, honey, love the one you’re with.”
Love. Yes, he loved Mac. Why, then, had he held back while they were on the porch? What would Mac have done if he would’ve just said, “Don’t marry Mic.” Three simple words. Or, “I love you.” Three not so simple, but just as heart-felt, words. Was that what she’d been fishing for the whole time?
“What do you want?”
“I want a lot of things.”
“What do you want most?”
Damn, this was a mess if he ever saw one. What had she expected him to do? This was her engagement party, for God’s sake. She was getting married in two weeks. She’d made her decision and him saying anything would have just been wrong. It would have been rash. It would have been inappropriate.
Yeah, inappropriate…like grabbing a woman who was engaged to another man, at her own party; feeling her, caressing her, kissing the living hell out of her.
And God help him, wanting to do it again.
***
‘Tiner!” Admiral Chegwidden called once again to his yeoman. He found him at the side of the house, near the trash barrels.
“Sorry, sir,” Tiner said, fighting the chill that penetrated his hands by rubbing them together, “the kitchen trash was getting a little full, I’d just thought I’d…”
“It’s okay, um...thank you…look, I need to ask you something and I’m afraid it’s going to seem a bit strange. You’re just going to have to go along with me here.”
This was nothing new. “That’s all right, sir. What’s the question, Admiral?”
A.J let out a long sigh, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Earlier this evening, when I asked you retrieve Colonel Mackenzie and Commander Rabb from my porch, did you happen to notice anything out of the ordinary?”
Tiner tilted his head in contemplation. In matters relating to his two superior officers, ‘out of the ordinary’ was ordinary.
“Tiner, I know I’m not saying this very clearly. It’s just that, now that I think about it, I hope I wasn’t too hasty in practically ordering them back in, if there was, you know, something they were in the middle of discussing.” He raised his eyebrows, hoping his yeoman would somehow hitch a ride on his particular train of thought.
“Well, sir, now that I think about it, when I came out there, the Colonel was wearing the Commander’s jacket and she looked as if something was bothering her. Actually, it did feel a bit like I was intruding. They didn’t exactly come in right away.”
He pursed his lips together. “They didn’t.” It was more statement than question.
Tiner shook his head, “No, sir. In fact, they couldn’t get rid of me fast enough.”
“They couldn’t.” Again, not really a question. “All right, thank you, Tiner. Despite what you may think, you’ve been a great help.”
“Oh, sir, speaking of help, before I came out here, the caterer wanted to know when you were going to give the toast. He has the champagne glasses ready to fill.”
“Wait, a toast? Tiner, didn’t I already do that when we brought out the cake?”
“Well, actually, sir you presented the new bars to Lieutenant Simms, then said a few words to the Colonel and Commander Brumby, but, technically sir, it wasn’t a toast. So, would you like to go ahead and do it now, sir?”
An idea popped into A.J.’s head that wavered precariously between brilliant and downright cruel. It was a chance he was willing to take. “No, I’m not going to give the toast,” he muttered.
“Well, all right sir. I’ll just go tell the caterer…”
A.J. stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Wait, Tiner, I didn’t say there wasn’t going to be a toast. I’m just not the one who’s going to be giving it.”
***
“Sir, you want me to do what?” Harm offered, his tone lacking a bit of the respect due the commanding officer standing in front of him. When Tiner had told him that the Admiral had requested his immediate company on the back porch, he’d figured it was work-related. Never in his wildest dreams had he expected to be asked to toast Mac and Mic.
How could he? How could he toast a marriage and a wedding that, upon its conclusion, would surely bring about the death of a part of him?
A.J. observed the conflicting emotions, the ill-suppressed agony of this man. Perhaps, kid gloves were needed here. “Harm, I’m sorry about the short notice, but who better to do it? Out of all of us here, you’re the closest to the Colonel, as her partner and her friend. Don’t you think she’d appreciate it?”
Harm rolled his eyes, scoffing inwardly. Appreciate. As it turned out, both he and Mac were still dealing with the after-effects of the last act of appreciation they’d paid one another on the porch. “Sir, it’s not that I don’t want to do it. I just don’t know if I can find the words right now.” He shifted his stance nervously, face falling to the ground.
A.J. nodded slightly, his suspicions duly confirmed. “Rabb, I’m afraid I need to confess something I’ve been regretting for a little over a year now.”
Surprised, Harm met his gaze. “Sir?”
“Back in Australia, at the airport, I told you not to look back.”
Harm nodded, cracking a half-smile. “As it turns out, sir, I didn’t exactly follow that piece of advice.”
The Admiral chuckled softly. “I know you didn’t. You see, I said those words to you as your commanding officer. They made perfect sense, rationally speaking.” He paused briefly. “I realize now that what you needed, instead, were the words of a friend.”
“And what would those have been, sir?”
A.J. crossed his arms at his chest, speaking softly. “If you have the desire to look back, you’d better have the will to move forward.”
“So, you’re saying I could’ve prevented all of this, sir? That I should have? It wasn’t that simple then and it sure isn’t now.”
A.J.’s voice increased a few decibels. “Commander, when the hell did you hear me say anything about this being the slightest bit simple? You’re right, though, it is her engagement party. It’s far too late for should haves.”
Harm nodded, closing the jacket tight around his body. It still smelled of her… vanilla and orange blossom.
“But Harm, remember, she’s only wearing one ring right now. The other’s not due to make an appearance for a few more weeks. What I’m trying to say is that life is both too precious and entirely too short to marry the wrong person – and to let the right one slip away.”
The words rushed into Harm’s body, settling in the pit of his stomach. “You don’t think it’s too late then?”
A.J. shook his head. “It’s not too late for the right person, for the right situation. I get the feeling you’re not quite sure yet. You’re scared, as well you should be. Actually, so am I. Mac asked me earlier to give her away. Of course, I was honored and I agreed immediately. But, I’m taking that responsibility very seriously. Mac’s like a daughter to me. The last thing I want to do is hand her off to the wrong man for the wrong reasons. And, right now, there’s a little part of me that’s not quite sure that’s what I won’t be doing. Harm…”
“Yes, sir.”
“There’s a big part of her that’s not quite sure either. I’m not going to ask what went on between the two of you on that porch, but, have you taken a good look at Mac in the last hour or so?”
It was a question that needed no answer, only the reply of deep contemplation. “Sir, how does me making the toast fit into all of this? I have no idea where to start.”
A.J. reached for the door handle, pausing briefly. “I know, but you will. I promise you will.”
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