| Subject: 'Carnival' - Part Five |
Author:
Daenar
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Date Posted: 14:39:50 07/24/02 Wed
In reply to:
Daenar
's message, "'Carnival' - Part Four" on 14:37:32 07/24/02 Wed
‘Carnival’ – Part Five
Author: Daenar
Disclaimer: See Part One
1845 ZULU
Hotel Bartolini
Near the Arsenale
Castello, Venice
Hearing a knock at the door, Mac quickly grabbed her cape and mask and deposited them where she wouldn’t forget them later. Then she hurried to open and had to smile as she saw Harm dressed in an early 19th century British Royal Navy uniform, the fitting Napoleonic cover in his hand, together with a black mask on a stick. A saber hung at his left side.
“Come in, I’m finished in a minute.” She closed the door after he had stepped in and mockingly looked him over. “Cute, Commander.” She grinned.
Harm smiled back a little uncomfortably. Then he took a close look at Mac and stared in awe. He had seen her beautifully dressed on many occasions, but tonight was far from anything he had ever seen.
“Wow! Mac, this is… this is incredible! This dress just seems to be made for you!”
Now it was her who was beginning to feel uneasy. She hastily started to arrange the many folds of her Empire style dress. It was made of dark red chanton silk and had pearl white lace applications at the ends of its semi-long sleeves and around her deep décolleté. Around her neck Mac was wearing only a single string of pearls which were the same as were attached around her body, directly under her bosom, from where the long folds were hanging down. But what was most amazing of all was her hair. Harm just stared at it for some minutes, slowly walking around her to admire it from all sides. “How on earth did you do this?” he finally managed to ask.
Mac had pinned her hair back from her face as if it were long and had covered the upper part of her head, where the strands ended, with a broad dark red silk ribbon, thus hiding the pins. At the back of her head she had attached a dark brown false plait, artfully wound up with pearl pins in it, leaving out only single strands which curled loose down to her shoulders. The illusion was perfect. She smiled, embarrassed, but also content that her trick seemed to work.
“Chloe showed me once how to do this with her hair. I just hope, the fake plait won’t fall off.”
Harm again looked at her and seemed to measure her with his eyes. “You are so beautiful,” he said in a low voice. Their eyes met and held for a long tense moment until she finally smiled and broke the contact.
“We’d better go, sailor.”
“As you wish, my lady, I’m your humble servant.” Harm grinned, imitating a strong oxford accent.
“Kidder!”
They put on their capes. Mac carefully placed her hood on her head, trying not to destroy her artwork. Harm struggled a moment with his cover until he had found an angle in which it stayed on top of his head. Then he offered her his arm and they went downstairs. As they crossed the lobby they tried to ignore the other guests who openly stared at the couple. Only Sergio wouldn’t let himself be passed in silence.
“Comandante, signorina, ‘dis is sooo beautiful! Pleas’ letta me take a photo!” He quickly dove under his counter and fetched his Polaroid. “You know, I keep it ollways reddy forr ‘dere are so many tourists ‘datta ‘ave soo wonderful costumes!”
Harm rolled his eyes upwards but then put on his sweetest flyboy smile and made Mac stand by his side. Of course, some other guests at once took photos of their own. After two minutes of grinning and posing, Harm and Mac smiled their goodbyes and fled to the door.
Outside it was dark and foggy. As they rushed along the narrow streets Mac felt like she had been transferred into the settings of a movie. All seemed so unreal. Harm’s long steps made his cape flow behind his back and made him look like a somber pirate rather than her well-known friend. She still held his hand, glad for her long pearl white silk gloves as it was rather chilly, but she had to follow behind him for the streets were too narrow to go side by side. As she looked at his dark backside, Harm seemed like a stranger to her. On the broader street that led to the Arsenale he slowed down, turned, smiled to her and again offered her his arm. She shyly took it, avoiding his glance. All this felt so odd. Harm was the perfect image of a 19th century officer and gentleman, his behavior fitted seamlessly to his looks. If she wouldn’t have known him any better she would have gotten the impression of being courted in a very Jane-Austen-like way. Anyway – it felt just great and Mac silently determined to savor any moment of the evening.
Harm on his side couldn’t help acting the way he did. He had always known Mac as a strong and independent woman, feminine, yes, and maybe sometimes even fragile, but still way too modern to confront her on any other level as equality. But tonight was different. This dress held some kind of magic over her appearance which, letting her still stay Sarah Mackenzie, the friend he knew, however gave her an aura of nobility and maidenly shyness, so that he couldn’t help but feel like some sort of knight who had been sent to protect the one he secretly cherished. Catching himself with these thoughts Harm could not suppress a slight chuckle.
Mac looked up, surprised. “What’s up?”
Still grinning, Harm replied: “I was just realizing how much power this old city can hold on your imagination. From one moment to the next you find yourself completely changed. I mean, I actually feel as if tomorrow I were going to fight the Spanish armada.”
Realizing that his thoughts must have gone in a similar direction as hers had – which to some respect made her wonder if she had been in them, too – Mac raised her eyebrows. “Harmon Rabb, don’t tell me you are about to become the romantic sort of a guy. I would never believe you!”
“Don’t worry, Mac, it will pass.” He smiled, but in the tone of his voice she heard the tiniest bit of something that belied his words. They fell silent again and walked up the street to the Arsenale, musing about the influence Venice was beginning to exercise on them.
Admiral Chegwidden and Francesca awaited them in front of the entrance. “Commander, you are ten minutes late,” AJ stated grimly.
“With all due respect, sir,” cut in Mac, “It’s only eight minutes and forty-three seconds.”
Chegwidden frowned. “With all due respect, Colonel,” he imitated her, “Why don’t you just shut up?” A moment later a wide grin spread across his face as he realized that Mac actually was at a loss of words to his reply. Harm hid his smile studying his mask. ‘One glorious day, Marine...’
“Why don’t we just go in?” Francesca tried to save the situation.
At that moment movements from behind them made them turn. They saw Fred and Claire approaching, Fred in full Scottish mess attire, kilt and dinner jacket, Claire in a dress of the 1880’s, in traditional Scottish style with a shawl that had the same pattern as Fred’s kilt. Harm introduced them to Francesca and they entered the Arsenale, Fred leading the way to the ballroom.
The huge room wasn’t actually a real ballroom but decorations made it look as if it were. They had given their capes to an Italian seaman at the entrance. As they now entered the ballroom they became aware that they had to line up in a défilé that seemed to have no end. All of Venice’s high society had to be present this evening, and Mac silently wondered how some people, especially women, could be able to choose such badly fitting costumes like, for instance, oriental outfits that let show too much of not too well trained bodies.
“This feels a bit like Buckingham Palace,” Harm said to Mac in a low voice, slightly amused.
“You ever been there?” she teased.
He frowned at her. Then, taking his nose up and remembering his oxford accent, he replied: “Of course, my lady, and I wonder why you have not yet been presented at court.”
Mac shook her head, unbelieving. “Harm, did you ever read ‘Pride and Prejudice’?”
He grinned, knowing that this was a goal in his favor. “High School. Second year. English literature. Back then I hated it,” he admitted, grinning. Realizing the queue had advanced, he took up his accent again. “May I suggest we move on, Miss Mackenzie?”
“Shut up!” she hissed, laughing. “This just isn’t you, Harm!”
“Okay,” he held his hands up and grinned at her. “Sorry. No more literature tonight, I promise.”
They had now reached Admiral Della Rosa who welcomed them aboard the Arsenale, hoping they would enjoy the evening. Having signaled to AJ, Harm and Mac that later on they would have the opportunity to talk in private, he turned to the next guest in line and the officers walked on. About ten minutes later – they had let Fred explain to them some historical details about the rooms – the live band, dressed in baroque clothes that created a strange effect together with their modern music equipment, took their seats and the bandleader announced something in Italian. They turned to Prumetti.
“The bandleader has announced the grand round dance which all of us must join in,” Fred explained, “It’s a tradition that Della Rosa has brought up. He is fond of historical dances, you know. It’s an old English one that opens the evening, but the steps are simple. Just follow the admiral and his wife who take the lead and do everything they do.”
“Uhm, Fred, can’t we just stay here and watch the dance?” Harm dreaded the thought of learning by doing.
“I’m sorry but I fear the admiral would see it as an insult if his special guests denied him this favor.” Fred smiled, compassion showing in his eyes. As very slowly people began to form a long queue of couples the JAG Officers looked rather helplessly at each other.
“Guess we have to surrender,” Harm stated grimly as he saw Della Rosa and his wife walk up to them. On the other side of the room Harm detected De Carlo, dressed as a Japanese nobleman with a beautiful woman at his side, a geisha, obviously his wife. De Carlo winked at them and threw them a compassionate glance, withdrawing further into a corner and taking out a camera. Harm decided he didn’t like this whole situation.
Fred turned to the little group. “If they do it like last year, Admiral Della Rosa and his wife will do the first stanza all alone in order to show everyone what they must do.”
Della Rosa and his wife had by now joined them. The signora was a little bit taller than the admiral and surely had once been a beauty, but just now her hair was a bit too yellow and her décolleté a little too open. She seemed very impressed with the two tall officers at her husband’s side for she obviously couldn’t decide whom she should flirt with more openly. Mac’s eyes met with Harm’s and maybe only she was able to distinguish the well-hidden amusement in his smile. She gave him a quick grin of mutual understanding.
“I hope you join us with the dance, Admiral,” Della Rosa said invitingly to AJ.
“We have already been instructed, thank you.” AJ smiled and made a gesture to Prumetti.
“Well then, we have to get in line.” Della Rosa took the hand of his wife who reluctantly tore her eyes off AJ and led her to the first position in the queue. Turning, he motioned for the JAG officers to follow him. Everyone was glancing over to the admiral and his special guests.
“Harm, don’t look like you’re going to your execution,” Mac said softly, smiling, as he took her hand to lead her to their place in the line. “Normally, you don’t abhor dancing this much, or did I miss something?”
“Yeah, right,” he hissed back, “But that’s when I’m not so conspicuously dressed and when I know the steps and when not everybody in this room keeps staring at us ‘cause we are society’s main attraction from the other side of the Atlantic.”
“Anyway, sailor, just try your smile, okay? It will make up for any wrong steps ending on other people’s feet.” At this remark she felt him prick her hand. However, when she looked up, there was his flyboy smile again, and Mac couldn’t help but feel like a princess being escorted by the best looking guy in the whole assembly. She blushed slightly and smiled back. Harm saw the sparkling in her huge dark eyes and once again thought he had never seen her this beautiful.
They had reached the end of the room and AJ and Francesca took the second position, directly behind Della Rosa and his wife. Harm and Mac and Fred and Claire were to be the couples three and four. Harm frowned as he saw De Carlo rushing up to the music stage from where he would surely be able to take good pictures.
Della Rosa was now given a microphone and he explained in Italian what was going to happen as he and his wife walked through the steps. Harm tried hard to memorize his task. All he had to do was walk, four steps to meet Mac, then four steps back. Then they would have to walk eight steps in a small circle around each other, always looking into the same direction, though, passing each other back to back. Then they would repeat all, this time taking the circle the other way round.
Then Della Rosa and his wife suddenly took AJ and Francesca’s hands. A slight expression of panic showed on Chegwidden’s face. Della Rosa pulled them into eight steps on the circle the two couples were forming, until everyone had reached their original position again. Then he turned to AJ and said: “Now you take your partner’s hand and go up one place. And for the next stanza you just stay put.” Della Rosa and his wife turned away from each other and, walking eight steps on semi circles, reached the second position while AJ and Francesca were passing to the first position in between them.
Della Rosa then explained to everyone that the couples that reached the ends of the queue had to subsequently wait for one entire stanza while he and his wife would now proceed with the next two dancers in the queue. Harm swallowed quickly as he heard Della Rosa say: “Commander, I think we might need to do this once again to show people how it works with the music.” The Italian admiral made a sign to the band and then smiled to Mac as he signaled them to begin. Harm hated him for this performance in front of the whole assembly.
‘Count your steps,’ he kept saying to himself, ‘Keep counting to eight and let Mac show you where to go!’ He locked his gaze with hers, relaxing a little as he found her giving him barely visible indications where he had to go. Mac seemed not in the least embarrassed by everybody’s glances. She went through her part in graceful steps, smiling, and even seemed to enjoy this absurd ceremony. To his astonishment Harm found himself getting angry with her for this. Well, if she could do it, so could he. He straightened up, grinned back and finished the rest of the stanza elegantly without any further help, still locking eyes with her, though, whenever he could. When he eventually detected a hint of admiring astonishment in her eyes, he actually started to enjoy his show.
Coming out of the circle, ready to take Mac’s hand to lead her up to AJ and Francesca, Harm stepped back self-confidently, not seeing anything but his gorgeous partner. A suppressed cry of pain from Fred at once brought him back down to earth. Casting Fred an excusing glance and inwardly cursing himself for spoiling it all, Harm looked back at Prumetti who tried to smile, rubbing his right foot at the back of his left leg. Mac and Claire had a hard time to refrain from laughing. Biting her lip, Mac saw Harm look down, frowning, trying to avoid her eyes. She knew this one had to prick his pride and she felt a sting of compassion. Luckily their demonstration ended shortly afterwards, the fact being clear to everyone that now Harm and Mac would go together with Chegwidden and Francesca and Della Rosa and his wife with Fred and Claire. The music stopped and all took their original positions. Someone actually started to clap his hands and Mac saw Harm trying hard to swallow his dismay as all applauded to their little performance. She squeezed his hand a little and earned a heartfelt smile in return.
“Where did you learn historical dancing, sailor?” she asked. “That was great.”
“Yeah, especially the hit-the-shoe number.” Harm frowned.
“No, really. I’m looking forward to dancing with you.” Mac’s smile was all honesty.
Harm replied with a half smile. “I’m just wondering why Della Rosa would make such a fuss about getting all of his guests into doing this.”
Having overheard his words, Claire leaned over and whispered: “Fred told me that Della Rosa swears it’s the best way of getting his guests to know each other. That’s why he insists on doing it.”
Mac grinned a little mischievously at her partner. “Okay, I guess I should take out my note pad and write down two names and a description in every stanza we’re doing.”
“Go ahead, Colonel,” Harm chuckled. Then they straightened as they heard the music begin. Everybody around them prepared for the dance.
‘Five, six, seven, eight,’ Harm counted silently and then exercised a perfect bow towards Mac, after that taking her hand and looking down at her as she was sunk into a graceful courtesy, her eyes lifted in his direction. And suddenly in the back of his subconscious something just clicked into place. Letting the majestic rhythm take control of his body, he led Mac through the quadrille, her eyes being the one fix point in a room that with every new step they took started to blur more and more. He began to feel a lightness that was new to him. His body was floating through the music, working entirely by itself, erasing rationality, allowing his emotions to flow freely. Harm felt he was getting a little scared about the changes that he witnessed within himself, but at the same time, he wouldn’t want to miss any second of it. He wondered briefly if this was what ‘letting go’ was all about.
Mac, on the other hand, had instantly understood what was happening to Harm. She told herself to try and remember to draw a red cross in her calendar: for the first time she had ever seen Harm entirely give in to his emotions. Not that anybody else would see it – his smile and attitude were all politeness. But when they were dancing together they were floating away, hovering five inches above the ground. They, for once, were in perfect harmony, at least for this all-too-short dance.
When it was over De Carlo joined them, admiration shining in his eyes. “Sarah, Harm, ‘dis was marvelous,” he said.
“We only did what everyone else was doing,” Mac replied with a blush. ‘How much exactly could people detect of that kind of trance we were in?’ she wondered. Harm just smiled back, not knowing exactly what to say. De Carlo could feel the confusion those two were trapped in, so he changed the subject.
“Anyone care for dinner?” He indicated to the enormous buffet that had been opened the minute before.
“Great idea,” Mac joined in at once, beaming up at Harm.
“Okay with me if they have Cesar Salad.”
0234 ZULU
Inside the Arsenale
Castello, Venice
Time had flown too quickly, Mac thought as she checked her internal clock. This evening was something to keep in her heart together with her most cherished memories. Except for four or five dances that she had shared with AJ, Della Rosa, Amedeo or Fred, Harm had not left her side even for a minute. Quite a lot of men had made an attempt to ask her to dance, but Harm had acted as if he were her husband and they had backed away. Not that Harm had scared them away. He had been a perfect gentleman. But he had been so attentive, protective and caring in his attitude towards her that most men must have felt they were an item sharing the love of their lives.
In vain Mac had tried to stay alert, repeating to herself that Harm was just playing a certain role that came with the costume and the situation. But the temptation had been too hard to resist. Ere long Mac was hopelessly captured by her partner’s charms, allowing herself for once to dream of another timeline when Harm and she would be given a chance together. Mac knew she was on dangerous territory. Waking from those dreams that she kept buried deep inside was always sad and painful but, heck, tonight she would let herself enjoy the emotions and not think about the consequences!
Harm, on the other hand, was getting more and more uneasy. A decision had formed in his mind and he was afraid he would run again if he didn’t get to act soon. Incredible as it was to be near Mac all the time, to even hold her, play her fiancé when she didn’t notice – with every passing moment Harm felt his courage falter more. And he had to keep it up. While they had been dancing their first dance it had dawned on Harm that tonight was the right time to speak. To finally correct his mistake and mend her heart if that was still his task. To tell his Sarah that it was her, and only her, whom he wanted to be the center of his life. He had to get her away from society, alone. Finally he couldn’t stand the tension any longer.
“Mac,” he began lightly, indicating his red nose that he’d had to continuously blow during the whole evening, “I think I should get some fresh air and some sleep.”
Reluctant to leave and return to her Harm-less ordinary life, Mac nodded and sighed. “Yeah. You’re right. Let’s call it a night.”
They took leave from the others and, wrapped in their capes, left the Arsenale.
They found themselves in the middle of thick sea mist that immediately crept through their clothes. “Do you really want to stay outside any longer than necessary in this weather, squid?” Mac asked shivering.
Harm tried not to let his despair show. He needed to be alone with her now, outside, on neutral territory, so to say. He just hoped she’d agree to stay. “I need fresh air, Mac. Take a little walk with me? Please do, Mac.”
He had tried to keep his voice light but Mac knew him too well to be fooled. Something was troubling him. She didn’t know why but he needed her with him. And of course she would stay. “Okay,” she consented cautiously.
They set out for the shore, following it in the direction of St. Mark’s, both being silent. Harm saw Mac try to hide that she was shivering from the cold. Hesitating only a second, he stepped close to her and put his arm around her shoulders, wrapping them both in his cape. Mac flashed him a shy, grateful smile that he returned with a tender, heartfelt one of his own. Holding on to each other under Harm’s cape, they would continue their silent walk, two wanderers in a misty night full of a yet unknown magic.
Mac didn’t realize where they were going until Harm suddenly slowed his pace and then stopped and turned to face her. They were standing on top of a bridge, the last one separating them from St. Mark’s. And as she turned her head to the right, she saw it vanishing in and again reappearing from the mists: the Bridge of Sighs. And at the same moment she knew what Harm was about to do. Or trying to do. She felt him tremble slightly. The cold or something else? She couldn’t tell, as her suddenly racing heart somewhat dazed her senses. So she just looked at him and waited.
Harm took both of her small hands in his and looked down on them, the expression on his face strained. He was desperately searching for words but they were nowhere to be found in his mind. Damn, where was the lawyer in him when he really needed him? Finally he lifted his gaze and took a deep breath and... had to quickly pull out his handkerchief to sneeze heartily. Thoroughly embarrassed he blew his nose and looked up at Mac again to find her chuckling softly. The tension at once eased and he couldn’t help joining in to her laughter.
”I’m sorry,” Harm said, still embarrassed. “This conversation was meant to start a little differently.”
Mac gave him an amused smile. “Conversations under bridges on foreign continents don’t seem to work with us,” she observed, her voice guarded.
Harm’s expression sobered and he stepped closer to her, not letting go of her hands. “I wish we’d never started this tradition,” he replied, his voice very low and sad.
“I’ve been sorry ever since that I did,” Mac replied, traces of the old hurt shining in her eyes.
“That’s not what I meant,” Harm cut in softly. “I wish I had done it right the first time. So any other bridges related to ‘eternity’ in some way or the other would bring up nothing but beautiful memories...” he paused and swallowed, then went on in a barely audible voice that was strained with emotion, “and not cut through the heart every time you think of them.”
Mac, too, stepped closer to him now, resting their entwined hands between their chests. “And I have been wishing ever since I had paid attention to your words. You didn’t say ‘no’. You said ‘not yet’. And I was too vexed to realize that.” As he didn’t reply but just looked at her with an unreadable expression in his blue-green eyes she went on. “But tell me something, Harm. Given the case that I would have gotten you right, how long would it have taken you to let go?”
“I don’t know, Mac.” His voice was little more than a whisper. But then he cleared his throat and took a deep breath. Now or never. He locked his eyes with hers. “What if I told you I was ready to let go right now? We’re not in Washington. We’re not even on the same continent,” he cited the words she had used three and a half years before.
Her smile was enigmatic. “Location doesn’t change who we are,” she took up his exact reply.
“No, it doesn’t,” he agreed softly, never breaking the eye contact, “But there’s no need to change. It’s always Harmon Rabb that loves you, Sarah. Here, back in Sydney or home in Washington. My feelings won’t change, so I won’t either.” He paused, holding his breath, silently awaiting her reply that could mean heaven or hell.
A single tear on her cheek indicated that he would get the first option. “I won’t disagree with you on that one,” she whispered, half smiling, half crying, still referring to their conversation in Sydney. “I love you, too, Harm.”
Harm didn’t trust his voice to any words. As relief threatened to overwhelm him, he just gathered his Marine into a tight, shaking embrace and rested his head on top of hers, his eyes closed against the uprising tears. He felt her sobbing softly against his chest and with a trembling hand caressed the back of her head until she quieted. She then pulled out of his embrace and with a teary but overwhelming smile looked up to him. He took a fresh handkerchief out of his pocket and gently dried her tears, smiling.
“I’m so scared, Mac,” he admitted sheepishly.
“So am I,” was her surprising reply. “Why are you?”
Caressing her cheek with his fingertips, he admitted: “It’s the sheer dimension of my feelings for you. It’s always been, I guess. I felt it was something that could easily sweep me away completely. It does, every time I’m near you,” he added, smiling, “And I don’t have the slightest idea how to cope with that. And you, what are you afraid of?”
“Not my feelings,” she replied, “But my reactions. Every time I had a relationship I screwed it up sooner or later. If that happened with you, I... I don’t know what I’d do, Harm.” She turned her head, confusion preventing her from facing him.
“You know what, jarhead?” Harm put his right index finger under her chin and gently made her meet his glance. “We’ve waited so long, a few months more or less won’t matter now. Both of us carry heavy emotional baggage. Why don’t we take one tiny step at a time and let it develop naturally? For me the most important thing is to know I haven’t lost your love. And I wanted you to know that I love you back, Sarah. All the rest will come at the right time. What do you say? Deal?” He gave her a smile that carried pure love and caring.
Mac returned the smile in full. “Deal,” she said softly. “I’m looking forward to every minute of it.”
Harm’s smile deepened even more at her reply. He made a movement as if to lean in to kiss her, but then stopped and again had to blow his nose. “At least I can always say I’m using my handkerchief because of my cold and not because of my emotions,” he chuckled.
“Nope, flyboy,” Mac retorted, chuckling as well, “Your watery eyes betray you.”
“Damn,” Harm mockingly swore and then turned serious again. “I’m only sorry I can’t seal our deal with a kiss now, but I don’t want you to catch a cold as well.”
Mac couldn’t help laughing again. This was so typical for her flyboy. Only concerned about her well-being. She loved him for that, too. “Nonsense,” she said. “If I wasn’t ill before I’ll be now, having been out in these temperatures for so long with only this costume on. And I definitely insist on that kiss.”
“Aye, ma’am,” Harm whispered just before his lips met hers in the sweetest, softest kiss Mac had ever received in her life. They didn’t break the contact for what seemed an eternity to both of them, this first, chaste kiss being the promise for so much more that was to follow when time was right.
To be continued...
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