Author: Erk
Subject:
Untangling the Webb--Feb Challenge
Untangling the
Webb
Response to the February Challenge
My writing has been
really off lately, this felt forced to me, but in hoping to come out
of my funk I told myself I would do these challenges. So, I hope it
isn't too bad.
Disclaimer: I don't own JAG, I don't own the
words, I don't even own the computer until next month when I make my
last payment!
Walking towards the door to leave, Webb
turns toward Mac, “I’m gonna miss sharing a bed with
you.”
“Yellow light, Webb.” Harm states in
disgust, walking towards the small table on the other side of the
room. “You and Mac are free to do whatever you want, but I
don’t want to hear about it.”
Completely ignoring
Harm, Webb gives Mac a quick hug, whispering, “Night, Sarah.”
Mac follows him to the door and gently shuts it behind him
before turning to Harm. “Oh, come on, Harm, Yellow light?”
she asks disbelievingly. “Haven't we reached the point where we
can drop the traffic signals?” she states plopping onto the
bed.
At her comment, Harm starts to pace around the room, his
tension mounting. “Sorry, Mac, guess I didn’t realize you
and Webb had moved beyond traffic signals.” The hostility in
his tone intensifies as he continues, “And in the midst of
terrorists, a pregnancy suit, and torture; how kinky.”
Sitting up, livid, Mac starts, “HARM..”
Before
she can get in another word, he continues his rant, “Ya know, I
have always wondered why a female Marine is like the Energizer Bunny.
Maybe I should go ask Webb.”
“I thought the Navy
only trained their bobble heads to sink that low,” Mac
practically spits at him.
“Ya know, on second thought,
Mac, maybe I should switch Webb rooms. I’m sure he is not
sleeping with the Marine of his choice tonight.”
Mac
steps in front of Harm, halting his pacing, and stands in complete
drill instructor mode. The fervor in her eyes and intensity of her
stance enough to intimidate a gorilla. “How about I trade Webb
rooms? Gunny is probably better company, anyway. Maybe you and Webb
can duke it out?”
Harm turns around, throwing his hands
in the air, “What Mac? You wanna watch us have a cock
fight?”
“Absolutely,” she states. Stepping
in front of him she adds caustically, “biggest cock
wins.”
“Only fitting, Webb is one of the biggest
dick-heads I know.” Meeting her gaze with an icy glare, he
smugly replies, “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to insult
your boyfriend.”
“There is nothing going on
between me and Webb!” she screams at him.
“I saw
you kiss him!” he shouts back. He turns away from her, running
his fingers through his hair, and starts pacing the room again.
“Did
it ever occur to you that that was a ’thanks for getting
tortured to protect me’ kiss.” She pauses for a moment,
but when she gets no response from Harm she continues. “Or how
about the overwhelming sense of guilt? ’I know you are on the
verge of death from protecting my ass, but I am gonna pawn you off on
Gunny so I can go run around with Harm.’”
“Yeah,
Mac, because we were just gallivanting around the country
side.”
Again, she steps in front of him to stop his
pacing. This time her demeanor much more vulnerable, “That is
my point, Harm. We were shot at, blew up a semi, shot at, crashed a
plane, you shot at me, we argued; it was hell. But I would have
rather been in hell with you than the safety of a hospital with Webb
any day.”
She locks his gaze, praying that he
understand what she is trying to say; for a moment they stand frozen,
neither willing to speak. It seems like eternity, until Harm final
turns away. Grabbing his arm, turning him back toward her, Mac asks,
“Why did you give everything up to come down
here?”
Exasperated, Harms sighs, “Can we table
this discussion for another time?”
Broken, she turns
away from him, “Sure, it’s not important.”
“Mac,
we’re both tired and irritable and-”
“You’re
right, Harm. Let’s not get into it.”
“Mac,
we are both exhausted, overwhelmed, I seem to have a knack for
irritating you right now. I just want to take the two most important
things in my life and put them on that table over there,” he
says nodding toward the table. “Just until we have both had
some sleep, please?”
“Two?” she asks
apprehensively yet optimistic.
“I want to put two things
on that table: that conversation,” he says while marching
towards her. In one swift move, he grabs her under her knees and
behind her back and carriers her to the table. As he gently sets her
on it, he whispers, “and you.”
If possible, her
optimism blossoms, of course so does the apprehension that seems to
have intertwined like a poisonous vine. “Why?” she barely
manages to get out.
“Because neither of us are thinking
straight, and these are the two things I am not willing to screw up.”
He gazes at her, his look so intense she would be weak in the knees
if she were standing. He knows he has gone to far to back away now,
but he is still not willing to hash this all out tonight.
“Why,
why are those the two most important?”
“Simple. My
life has no meaning without you in it. And, well, whether my life is
happy or miserable, that weighs considerably on the outcome of that
conversation.” With that, he turns and heads toward the bed.
“In the morning when I have slept, hopefully I am coherent, and
God-willing able to string a sentence together without provoking your
wrath, I promise to take them off the table.” He pulls the
blankets back, and crawls into bed, oblivious to the level of shock
he has left Mac in.
After a few moments, Mac regains her
senses, she also realizes that she is still sitting on the table.
“Harm?”
“Hmph?” he mumbles, almost
asleep.
“Do you expect me to sit on this table all
night?”
Propping his head up on his elbow, he throws her
his flirtatious half-smile, “Well, I did table you until the
morning.” Noticing her wicked glare, he starts to scoot over,
“I am sure there is room for you on the other side, Mac. Come
on.”
“Um, Harm, I don’t think that is going
to work,” she adds deadpan.
“Oh,” he
mumbles, deflated.
“It’s just, if I crawl in bed
with you right now, I am gonna want you to hold me.”
The
wind instantly refills his sails as he shifts to the middle of the
bed. Holding up the blankets in invitation, “That can
definitely be arranged, come on.”
Mac snuggles her back
into Harm’s broad body, and nearly melts when he wraps an arm
around her waist. She wrapps both of her hands around his, holding it
for dear life, praying that this moment will never end. Harm revels
in the feel of her in his arms, he knows that if he died now, he
would spend eternity with a smile on his face.
“Harm?”
“Yeah,
Mac?” he asks snuggling closer to her.
“Thank
you,” she whispers, pulling him tighter. “For coming
here, for dealing with me, for giving everything up, for holding me
like this.”
“Well, if you must know, I did have
reasons of my own.”
“Really? Like what?”
“Well,
I watched this movie a while back, where the guy swooped in, saved
the beautiful girl, and they ended up going home--together.”
Rolling
over facing him, barely inches apart, she asks, “Is that what
you want?”
“Only if that is what you want.
Not out of gratitude, or obligation, definitely not out of
guilt.”
*RING, RING*
“Si,” Harms
says, grabbing the phone. “All right. Uh, we’ll be right
there.”
Hanging up the phone he rolls back over towards
Mac. “That was Hardy. Marie Elena is dead.” He starts to
roll back over to get out of bed when Mac grabs his arm and pulls him
back towards her.
Leaning in, she places the gentlest kiss
upon his lips, “Want. It’s always been you I
want.”
Running his hand over her cheek, he leans down
and gives her a tender kiss. He pulls back, grinning like a kid in a
candy store, “Good. But we gotta go.” He stands and pulls
her out of bed.
The get ready and head out the door, finally
ready to embark on their journey, together.