Title: Long Gone(1/1)
Author: manette
Pairing: Harm and Mac
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Belongs to DPB
Summary: A chance meeting takes place while Harm is still with the CIA.

AN: This is an answer to Cece HBX February challenge. I realize it’s March, but it’s not my fault that February has less days than other month in the year so in my world it’s February 31rst and my challenge just made it under the wire..LOL.

I’m almost finished with my busiest time at work and so I’ve barely had any time to write and I haven’t had any time to read all the stories that have been posted by so many wonderful authors lately. I can’t wait to catch up—I think I have at least a month’s worth to read—and I want to thank everyone ahead of time for all the hours of entertainment that I have waiting for me. Thanks to everyone that contributes to this community with your time and effort.




Long Gone


I sat at the bar nursing what was left of my drink. Waving to the bartender, I said, “Keep ‘em comin’, Joe.”

“Woman trouble?” he asked with a knowing smile.

“Is there any other kind?”

“None worth talking about,” he agreed as he poured me another. Nodding toward the front door he added, “Speaking of trouble.”

I looked up and groaned as I spotted Mac waltzing right toward me. This was not what I needed, and to make matters worse she looked good enough to make a monk break his vows. Playing it cool, I declared, “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

“Nice to see you, too, Harm.” She sat down on the barstool beside me just like it hadn’t been six months since she’d seen me. She put her purse down on the bar and greeted the bartender. “Hey, Joe.”

“Hey, Mac.” He smiled and asked, “The usual?”

“Yeah, thanks.”
He placed a soda with a twist in front of her and moved off to a safer distance. Smart guy.

She was wearing some pink body hugging outfit that reminded me of why she still haunted my dreams. And she smelled like some exotic flower. Not that I knew what an exotic flower smelled like, but if I did, I’d bet it would smell just like her.

That alone was enough to prompt me to lob another zinger in her direction. “Out looking for some new hearts to break, Mac?” I allowed my eyes to travel insolently from her head down to her pink painted toes. What can I say? I was feeling reckless.

“You know me,” she shot back. “I’m always looking for a cheap thrill.” She tightened her lips in that way she did when she was annoyed with me.

I remembered a few times over the years when I’d been tempted to kiss that look right off her face. It annoyed me that the temptation was still there. “Well, let me know if I can be of service.”

She looked me over like she was seriously considering it and said, “We both know if I said yes to that offer, you’d be out of here so fast my head would spin.”

The thought of her saying yes was making my head spin, but I looked her in the eye and said dryly, “But we both know you’d never say yes, don’t we?” I was on a roll, so I asked, “Where’s Clay, Sarah?”—sarcastic emphasis on the Sarah—“Does he know you’re out on the prowl?”

“You tell me. You’re the one that works for him now.”

I let the truth of that fact rattle around in the air between us and took another sip of my drink without responding.

She finally broke the silence and the mood by asking quietly, “So, how have you been, Harm? I’ve left messages, but you always seem to be out of town.”

Her concern ripped into me but I covered it with a devil-may-care attitude. “Well, they keep me pretty busy, but I can’t complain. A lot of travel, a little danger—it’s just one big adventure. What more could I want? How are things at JAG, anyway?” I didn’t really want to know but good manners obligated me to ask.

She shrugged and swirled the swizzle stick around in her drink. “Busy, different, lonely—I don’t know.” She studied the liquid in her glass for a little longer and then added, “Everyone misses you.”

I let out a snort and said, “Somehow I doubt that.”

“It’s true. The Admiral’s a bear, Sturgis is impossible and poor Bud asks me if I’ve talked to you at least twice a week.”
I scrubbed a hand over my face and said, “I should call him, but it’s easier to keep my distance. I’m just trying to get on with my life.”

“I’ve noticed. Were you ever going to return any of my calls?”

“Don’t take it personally, Mac. I’ve just been busy.”

Looking like she was taking it personally, she got quiet again and then asked, “At least you’re getting to fly a lot, right?”

“Webb tell you that?” We were back to the subject of Webb. Funny how his name kept coming up. Okay, so I was the one that kept bringing it up—sort of like poking my tongue at a sore tooth.

“I asked, and all he would say was that you were flying missions for them—getting to do what you loved, and that everything had worked out for the best. Is that true, Harm? Did everything work out for the best?”

What a question. I’d lost everything that meant anything to me, and she wanted to know if things had worked out for the best. It had been my decision to gamble everything by going after her, betting my career and my life on finding her. Since she was sitting beside me, alive and well, I guess that bet paid off even if nothing else had worked out the way I imagined. And there was no question that I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

The truth was I missed having her in my life. It was as painful and as simple as that. For too many years she’d been the steady presence that made up the center of things for me. And that was beside the fact that I was in love with her. None of it mattered though. She’d made her feelings clear at that taxi stand in Paraguay.

For the first time I noticed that she was thinner than the last time I’d seen her, and the dark shadows under her eyes testified to more than a few restless nights. I could see how much she needed to believe that things really had worked out for the best, but some stubborn part of me didn’t want to be the one to reassure her. I could have played on her guilt and told her about all the lonely nights I’d spent in strange places, or about the close calls when my butt was on the line, or about the way nothing in my life made much sense anymore, but instead I shrugged and told her the only thing I knew that was still true, “Who knows, Mac? Things change.”

Whirling toward me she said fervently, “Well, maybe they do, but I don’t have to like it.” She waved her hand back and forth between us as if she could erase the space that kept us apart and in more of a whisper continued, “I hate sitting here pretending that we’re barely friends—that we barely know each other.” She took a swig of her tonic water as if she wished it were something stronger and then slammed the glass down with a force that startled me and the rumpled looking businessman sitting on the other side of her. Then she got up and stomped off in the direction of the ladies room.

We both watched her go, and then he leaned toward me and said with an exaggerated wink, “Man, she’s a feisty one.”

“She’s a Marine,” I offered as an explanation.

His eyes got wide with surprise, and then he raised his glass and in a slurred voice said, “God bless America.”

I clinked my glass against his and then sat there wondering if I should leave before she came back. Seeing her again had unburied every mixed up feeling I’d ever had about her, and part of me wanted to run away as far and as fast as I could. But there was another part that was happy just to be in the same room with her again. Everything about her made my blood boil and my heart race, and, if nothing else, I felt more alive than I had in months. Before I could decide what to do my new friend leaned over again and asked, “So, what happened? The two of you break up or something? I couldn’t help but overhear.”

“Nah, nothing like that. We used to work together—but we were only friends.” I trotted out the old familiar refrain.

He was a complete stranger, and even in his inebriated condition he could see right through me. He fixed me with a bleary eyed stare and asked bluntly, “Did you love her that much?”

I could have denied it, but I couldn’t find the will to fight the truth any longer. With a sigh, I made my confession. “I didn’t realize how much until she was gone. That’s always the way, isn’t it?”

“Tell me about it, buddy. My wife left me for her dermatologist. Gets free collagen in her lips now and looks like a guppy.”

“That’s rough,” I said sympathetically. He was pursing his lips and making fish faces at himself in the mirror behind the bar. Mac chose that moment to return and watched him warily before sitting back down beside me.

“What’s his problem,” she asked under her breath.

“His wife left him,” I explained.

She shot me a look that said she thought that was perfectly understandable, and then said, “Look, Harm—about before. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It’s just that I’ve been trying to reach you for months now, and I wasn’t expecting to walk in and find you sitting here tonight.”

“I think it caught us both off guard,” I conceded brusquely. Now that I’d admitted how I felt about her out loud, I felt foolish—laid wide open. I wasn’t very good at this unrequited stuff.

“Harm, when I said everybody missed you that included me, you know.” She touched my arm and looked at me with eyes full of sincerity and hope and everything but the one thing I wanted from her. But I could tell exactly what she wanted from me. She wanted me to say that everything was fine, and we’d still be friends and get together once a month to share war stories about our jobs, and she’d gush about Clay and I’d tell her about my most recent conquest, and she’d give me sisterly advice and I’d be miserable. I didn’t know if I had it in me to go back to the way we’d been. So I sat there and couldn't come up with a thing to say.

My silence hung in the air between us like a physical barrier and finally she sighed and started gathering her things to leave. Standing up, she said, “Well, I guess I’d better go. It was really nice to see you, Harm.”

“Yeah, you too, Mac.” I was really feeling sorry for myself by this time, so I knocked back the last of my drink and sat there like a big, dumb bump on a log and watched her walk out of my life all over again.

My new confidant turned and hissed at me with alarm, “You’re not gonna just let her leave, are you?”

“Yep,” I muttered miserably.

“Oh brother,” he said with disgust as he slid off his barstool and staggered after her. “Hey, sister, you can’t just leave.”

“Excuse me?” She turned around and the drop dead look she gave him would have given a sober man second thoughts, but it didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest.

I watched with a mixture of interest and dread when he stuck out his hand and introduced himself. “I’m Ben. You don’t know me, and I hate to be a buttinski, but our friend over there doesn’t really want you to leave.” When he started pulling her back toward the bar I figured I was going to have to step in before someone got hurt. Any minute I expected to see him flat on his back wondering what hit him, but instead she allowed herself to be steered back to my side.

And then she said the most extraordinary thing. “If I really believed he wanted me to stay, wild horses couldn’t drag me away.”

With a sincerity only the drunken and the pious can achieve he asked, “Would I lie to you?" Without waiting for her answer he slapped me on the back and started making my case like I was the unwanted runt in a litter of puppies. “He may not be much to look at, but he’s a nice guy and I think he deserves a second chance.” Then he elbowed me and said in a stage whisper, “Now just tell her what you told me.”

It was time to put a stop to this nonsense before it got any more embarrassing for all of us. “Ben,” I said firmly, “she’s not interested.

He made a scoffing noise and said, “Of course she’s interested.”
At the same time Mac said, “I’m interested. I always have been.” She paused for a minute and then said to our friendly neighborhood matchmaker, “Thanks, Ben, but I think I can take it from here.”

He looked us over like he was trying to decide if he could trust us not to mess up all his hard work, and then yelped, “Good—‘cause I think I’m gonna be sick,” and rushed off toward the bathroom.

I turned to the bartender and said, “Hey Joe, I think you better call him a cab.”

Joe was already on the phone. “I’m way ahead of you.”

Then I turned back around and started apologizing immediately. “I’m really sorry, Mac.”

“Don’t be sorry, Harm, and you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. He actually did me a favor when he kept me from leaving.”

“He did?”

“Mmm hmm.” She stepped closer and said, “Because there’s some unfinished business I promised myself I’d take care of the next time I saw you.”

“What’s that?”

“This.” She leaned over and kissed me like I was the last man on earth.

I kissed her back like she was the only woman that mattered, because she was, and if this turned out to be my only chance to show her how I felt then I wanted to make sure she got the message.

When we finally broke apart I asked, “What was that for?” since I wasn’t about to jump to any conclusions.

“Because I love you, and I didn’t realize how much until after you were gone.”

“But in Paraguay—”

“I know what I said in Paraguay, but I was tired, and hurt, and confused, and I was mad at you for not wanting me the way I wanted you.”

“Mac, I—”

“Let me finish, please. I thought we would come home, go back to work and fight it out the way we had a million times before, but then you were just gone—from JAG, from my life—it was like you’d fallen off the face of the earth and without you, nothing made sense anymore. And I promised myself I’d tell you that if I ever got the chance.”

I just sat there and stared at her like an idiot. She loved me. Just when I thought I had everything about us neatly catalogued and filed away she pulled out all the drawers to the filing cabinet of my heart and dumped them on the floor, and I was having trouble sorting it all out. On top of that, I was starting to sound like a country song.

She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other and said, “So, now I’ve told you, and I guess I really will leave this time.”

That brought me out of my stupor, and I grabbed her arm before she could make her escape. “Hold on, sister. You can’t just say something like that and walk away.”

“I’m not your sister, and what am I supposed to do?”

“Stay here and fight it out.”

If I was a firing squad she couldn’t have faced me more bravely. “Okay, take your best shot.”

“First, let’s get one thing straight. I wanted you in Paraguay.”

“But you—”

“Let me finish.”

“Okay.”

“I was scared—not knowing if I’d even find you alive, and when I did you were all cozy with Webb, and I’ll admit I was jealous, and I felt foolish because you didn’t seem to want me the way I wanted you.” I took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “I thought I’d made my feelings clear, but obviously I didn’t. In case you don’t know, I love you, Mac. I’m not sure of much these days, but I’m sure of that.”

She looked stunned by my speech, then pleased and she was beaming by the time she asked, “Is that what you told Ben?”

“No, I told him you were a Marine, and he told me I shouldn’t let you run off with any dermatologists.”

“Good advice,” she said with a laugh. “You love me?” She sounded like she was afraid to believe it.

I nodded, and she launched herself into my arms for another kiss. I was happy to oblige. My usual disdain for public displays of affection flew right out the window.

“I love you, and you love me.” She announced it like she’d just solved some complex mystery. “That’s pretty convenient, huh?”
I understood how she felt. My life as I understood it had just been turned upside down, and I’d been making some assumptions that now seemed to be off base. I didn’t want to put a damper on things but I needed to know. “What about Webb?”

She grabbed my hand and said, “He’s been a friend when I needed one, and he also knows the only spook I’m interested in is you.”

I squeezed her hand and said, “Okay, then.” Simple as that. I decided to take her word for it, since the sooner I did the sooner I could get around to kissing her again. “You want to get out of here?”

“What did you have in mind?”

I knew we probably still had lots of things to talk about, but all that could wait. I pulled her close and said, “I thought we could go somewhere private and make out for a couple of days.”

“Well, you know me—always looking for a cheap thrill.” She didn’t look annoyed at all when she said it this time.

I grinned and nearly dragged her out of the bar. We walked out the front door and spotted Ben just as his cab was arriving at the curb.

He saw the two of us arm in arm and said with a sloppy grin, “Well, it looks like my work here is done.”

“Thanks, Ben—for everything. You need any help getting home?”

“Thanks, but I’m fine.” He opened the back door of the cab, but I stopped him before he could get inside.

Hey,” I yelled. When he looked back in my direction I said, “Maybe you should call your wife.”

He paused for a minute and said, “Old Fish Lips? Who knows? Maybe I will.” And with a snappy salute in Mac’s direction he climbed inside, and we watched his taxi disappear into the night.

“Fish Lips?” she asked as I walked her to her car.

I pushed her up against the driver’s door and started kissing her neck. “It’s an endearment—like jarhead, or Mac-a-doodle, or God, you taste good.” I found her mouth before she could give me a hard time about Mac-a-doodle, and she wrapped herself around me and tried to eat half my face off before I could eat hers. It was great.

When I started trying to find ways to get inside that pink body hugging outfit while we were still standing on a public street, I knew I was losing control. “Do you want to follow me or should I follow you?” My hands were working her zipper down an inch at a time despite my best intentions to stop.

“Whatever. Where are we going?” She had my shirttail pulled out of my pants and her fingernails were raking trails down my bare back.

“My place is closer,” I muttered.

“Definitely, your place then,” she agreed.

“Get in your car so I can stop kissing you.”

“Stop kissing me so I can get in my car.”

But we didn’t stop. It was disgraceful and liberating and sexy as hell the way she had one leg wrapped around my six. I fumbled around behind her and found her door handle. I managed to open it and get her inside without ever breaking contact with her lips. We should have won some kind of contest, but I don’t think they give out awards for that kind of thing.

Once she was safely in the driver’s seat I squatted down inside her open door and asked, “Do you have your keys?”

She looked a little dazed but dug around in her purse and pulled them out with a triumphant grin and jangled them in my face. “Keys,” she announced. She looked happy and carefree and all mussed up with smeared lipstick and hair flying in every direction. I was responsible for putting that look on her face and I had to admit I was pretty pleased with myself. I reached out a hand and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. She caught my wrist and kissed the pulse point. “Scoot, Spy Guy” she said. “I’ve got places to go and men to debauch.”

After one more kiss I stood up and ask dubiously, “Spy Guy?”

“I’m just trying out a few endearments.”

“Cute, Marine.”

She laughed and pulled the door closed. I tried to look stern but nothing could wipe the silly smile off my face. I jogged over to my car, got in and pulled out onto the road right behind her. At every red light she’d wave and blow kisses to me in her rear view mirror. The worst part was that I pretended to catch them. Love was gonna be really bad for my macho image.

We parked our cars and met up at the entrance to my apartment building. I’d gone in and out of this place hundreds of times over the years—none of them more significant than any other. Mac had even been with me on more than one occasion, but this was different. My future with the woman I loved was about to begin. I held the door open and asked formally, “Shall we?”

She laughed, grabbed me by the shirt front and pulled me inside. “Try and stop me, Big Boy.”
We were gonna have to work on that endearment thing.

The End