| Subject: It Could Happen, Part 2 |
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lauraloo
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Date Posted: 12:11:21 07/28/02 Sun
In reply to:
lauraloo
's message, "It Could Happen, Part 1" on 12:09:28 07/28/02 Sun
Tuesday 1950 Hours
Mackenzie Residence
Sarah Mackenzie loved her apartment. It was warm, cozy and filled with the things she loved most, well at least most of them. After the hectic craziness of her job, this was her tranquility. At night, she’d usually play music or leave the TV on for background noise as she fixed and fiddled. But sometimes, like this evening, she’d just sit on her sofa and enjoy the quiet; let it wrap itself around her body like a warm blanket. She sighed, nodding pensively. There was a time that Mic had been right. She’d been so afraid of being alone. But that time was a world away. Since then, she’d grown wiser and more confident. The fact that being alone no longer bothered her made her feel proud, strong, independent. It terrified her.
A knock at her door jolted her out of her reverie. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and that usually meant one thing, one person.
She rose and peered through the peep hole. It was him and he was divine. She opened the door, and just for a second, looked him over. He was dressed in a short sleeve, black, button down shirt, worn untucked over close-fitting khakis. “Harm,” she barely managed.
“Mac, sorry I didn’t call.” Actually, he wasn’t sorry about catching her off guard. He noticed her feet first. Bare feet with toenails painted a deep shade of red and one tiny silver toe ring. Then, dark, boot cut jeans that sat low, revealing a hint of her naval between the waist and the hem of her fitted, black, knit top. As if he wasn’t already nervous, seeing her like this nearly sent him into hysteria.
She stepped aside, closing the door behind him “No problem. Well, you’re too early to have caught me in my pajamas and I’m afraid I don’t have any bad coffee brewing,” she giggled uneasily, thinking back to a time months before when having him this close to her, in her apartment, wasn’t nearly as threatening.
He smiled, then his expression faded, growing serious. “That’s okay. I’m not here for coffee. I, uh, I need to tell you something. It’s kind of, well, hard to say. I mean, it’s important and I couldn’t wait…” he tried to speak, to finish, but just couldn’t. He walked to her window, praying for words.
A feeling of uneasiness came over Mac. Something was definitely going on with Harm; his manner, his stance, his eyes. His normally bright, blue eyes had looked different, haunted. She’d played witness to this intense side of him before; when he was after Annie’s killer, during their time in Russia, and when Chloe was there and he had to... suddenly, it came to her in an angry stampede; pounding, trampling, breaking her heart all over again. It just had to be. But after everything, all they had overcome, how could he? Blood boiling, tears threatening, she walked right up to him, willing him to face her. “Is this about you…and JAG? Dammit, Harm don’t come here like this, don’t stand there tell me you’re leaving. Not again. What is it this time, is it…”
Harm grabbed her shoulders, trying to do something, anything to stop her fiery rant. He shifted into pure survival mode. The nervousness, the anxiousness was gone in an instant because Sarah Mackenzie was getting the entirely wrong idea about why he was there. “Stop, Mac, please, just listen. It’s not what you think, please, stop!” He felt the tension in her shoulders subside, but her eyes screamed hurt and desperation. “Sarah,” he began deliberately, slowly, “I’m sorry if I scared you. I’m not going anywhere, that’s not why I came here.”
At the mention of her given name, she nodded, exhaling. “No, I’m sorry. I jumped too quickly. It’s just that, your eyes and your expression…”
“I know. I can’t help it. There’s something I need to ask you. I’m just not doing a very good job of it.’
She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up his hand, silencing her. “Please, let me try first.” At her nod, he continued, pulling the small box out of his pocket. “I know this is going to sound totally crazy. We’ve been through so much together, but it’s been too long… too much time wasted. You see, I love you Mac and I… well, I think we should…” He knelt down on one knee in front of her, removing the ring so she could see it, taking her left hand. Only then did he look up at her.
She’d turned pale, trembling beyond control. Her mouth formed an opening that rivaled the Grand Canyon. Her right hand was trying its best to find said opening, but she couldn’t even manage that. Yep, he had done it. He’d officially put Mac over the edge. He’d wanted to surprise her, but it had been too much for her all at once. And his words. They’d been so weak, so lame. The skilled courtroom orator was long gone, and in his place stood a bumbling fool! This was not going the way he’d wanted it to and it was time for plan B. Fast.
In one swift motion Harm rose, tossing the velvet box, shoving the ring onto Mac’s finger as he took her face in his hands, lovingly, but with purpose. His lips sought hers and they found them, trying to show her, prove to her what his words couldn’t. That his ring was on her finger wasn’t done out of presumption; she hadn’t answered him yet, not that she could of anyway. It was done out of the simple fact that he needed full use of his hands. First, they framed her cheeks; his thumb caressing the line of her jaw as he delved further, deeper into her mouth. Then, with an overwhelming need for closeness, his arms drew her to him, one wrapped snugly around her shoulders, the other hand at the small of her back. God, he loved this woman. She was fire. She was pure silk, woven into the firm sinews of his body. She was his treasure, his gold mine. And he had only begun to stake his claim.
Years later, Sarah Mackenzie would recount this moment to children in fuzzy, footed pajamas, curled in her lap. “Yep, he sure took me by surprise that day. Your silly daddy, he had it all planned out. But it didn’t end up happening like he’d expected it to…” And then they’d laugh, twirling the rings on her finger, begging for the rest of the story. And she would tell it too. But she’d leave out a few details, details that she’d stored deep within her soul as tiny, precious gems.
There were some details she couldn’t remember, like the way she’d ended up in his arms that night, his lips upon hers so suddenly. But the flame of his touch; the way it had wavered between gentle and possessive, sweet and ravaging, burned as brightly as it had that night. It had awakened her senses, stimulating them to the point of intoxication. She took him all in; the delicious, musky smell of his after shave, the sugary taste of his lips, his tongue as they danced with hers, the sound of his breath, fierce, ragged. She didn’t know how long the kiss had lasted. It could have been a minute. It could have been and hour. She was just content to feast on it, on him, until it all came back to her.
Her mind awoke. She realized that it was their time, finally. He was here, loving her. The consuming passion, the emotion of it all filled her little by little; building and building until it completely overtook her. All at once the tears came. She broke the kiss, now in sobs. Her legs betrayed her and she sank, but just for a second as Harm held her, led her to the sofa.
“God, Sarah, what’s wrong?” He was frightened now that he’d hurt her somehow. Or it was worse? “I’m so sorry,” he whispered in anguish, “if this isn’t what you want…”
Unable to speak, she shook her head and held up her hand to silence him, held out her arms to reach for him.
Harm understood now. She just needed to get this out. He cradled her in his arms, stroking her hair, letting her cry.
The tears Sarah Mackenzie cried were the tears she’d blocked too many times before. Some had grown stale, from years before. They were out now, as she cried for all of the wasted time, the hurt, the longing. She cried for the past, for the unanswered questions, the times they had each backed away. She cried for her own stupidity, for almost marrying that damned Australian. She cried because she’d come dangerously close to losing this man so many times; to the sea, to the air, to his own, dark fears. And she cried in joy, such pure joy. Because he had come to her, saying he loved her, placing his ring on her finger. She breathed in deeply then exhaled as the painful, sweet catharsis drew to a close. As consciousness and reality returned, one thought struck her. With words still eluding her, she started to giggle, placing her hands to her mouth. Only one word escaped. “Soup,” she said, laughter building.
Harm pulled away, mouth wide open, staring in disbelief. What did she say? After the ring and the kiss and the crying, she said ‘soup?’
Finally in control, Mac knew she had to explain. She hauled him off the couch, into the kitchen. She pointed to the single can of chicken noodle soup sitting on the counter. “After I came home from work, I was feeling kind of down because THIS,” she emphasized, picking up the can, “Harm, this is all I thought I had to look forward to tonight. Just a lousy can of soup. And then you came and…” she stopped herself, feeling the urge to kiss him softly. She did, because she could.
Harm slowly pulled away, his forehead still pressed to hers. They were both laughing now. He looked up and she was radiant, beaming with her rosy, tear-stained face. And then something miraculous happened. The words finally came. “Sarah,” he began, voice low and breathless.
“Yes.”
“What I tried to do in there, that wasn’t a proposal. That was totally ridiculous. You deserve so much better.” He took both of her hands, gazing into her eyes. “First, I want you to know how deeply, how completely I love you. I have for so long now. I know we haven’t had that talk and there are still so many questions between us. But, I did this tonight to prove to you that I love you, I want you, and I need you, no matter what the answers are. You see, they wouldn’t change a thing. I know this seems sudden, but if you really think about it, we know each other better than most married couples do. Everything I know about you I’m crazy about. And everything I don’t, well, please say you’ll spend the rest of your life teaching me,” he paused, kneeling in front of her once again, “please due me the honor of marrying me.”
This time Mac didn’t shake or faint or cry. She knelt down with him, taking his face in her hands. “Harm, I realized just now that I’ve been wearing this beautiful ring the whole time and I haven’t even hold you that I love you. I love you so much.” She dabbed tiny kisses on his lips, then stopped, or she’d never finish what she had to say. “You weren’t hasty in doing this or putting your ring on my finger. Becoming your wife is, has always been, my greatest dream. Yes. Yes I’ll marry you.”
Harm rose to his feet, leading her with him, crushing his mouth on hers again.
“You do realize something, Harm,” Mac said moments later, wrapped in his arms.
“What’s that?” He trailed soft kisses down her neck.
She punched his shoulder lightly, her voice teasing. “The way you did this, you know, without the dating part first, well you just saved yourself a whole lot of trouble, sailor – the roses, the romantic dinners, the…”
A swift kiss silenced her. “Sarah Mackenzie, don’t think for a minute that you’re going to miss out. You want to be courted? Hell, you’ve got a world of courting in store for you. Everything. Roses, candlelight, soft music…things you’ve never even thought of. You’re gonna have it all. One small difference is you’ll experience all of those things as my wife.”
She nodded, smiling, “I think I could get used to this wife arrangement.”
He played along, eyebrows raised. “Oh, really? Because I distinctly remember a time, not so long ago, when you said that you couldn’t think of me with a wife.”
“Yeah, I might have said something to that nature.”
“And what do you think now?” he challenged.
She tilted her head with a sly grin. “It could happen. But only with me.”
Harm gathered her into is arms, towards her bedroom, towards their future. But his reply took him back to the past. “Only with you.”
The bittersweet irony of his statement did not go unnoticed to her. But this was a new day and she was in his arms, blissfully content. For Harmon Rabb Jr. had satisfied each part of Sarah Mackenzie; the Marine Colonel stood proud that she’d held her ground, making him come to her. The rational lawyer had gotten her words, and in plain, unadulterated English at that. And the Woman, well the Woman had never really asked for much in the first place. She’d just wanted this complex, stubborn, incredible man to love her. Pure and simple.
The End
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