Author: manette
Subject: June HBX Challenge: Do-Overs

Title: Do-Overs
Author: manette
AN: Seeing everyone at the TX JAG meet reminded me of how much I miss this show, and especially Harm and Mac. Despite my crazy, busy life lately, I've really been wanting to write a challenge and this one just came to me. It's not much, but it was fun to write. Thanks again to Cece for keeping these going. I can't wait to read all the Ficathon stories, too! What a treat!!

HBX-June Challenge
Mac: Why are you doing this?
Harm: Because it's the right thing to do.
I've stopped trying to stop you.
(What If)

Do-Overs

“Good morning, Harm.”

“Colonel.” The single word was spoken in a polite manner. Not her name, but her rank. Painfully polite. Without meeting her eye he finished filling his coffee mug and left the break room as soon as he could.

Mac was tired. Tired of the distance. Tired of the tension—the never-ending friction that now rubbed her raw whenever they occupied the same space.

Face it. She was just plain tired of Harmon Rabb, Jr.

Well-- as tired as she could get of someone she was in love with. That was the part that really chapped her marine-green butt. She still loved him, wanted him, lusted after him, desired him, and hungered for him, longed for his attention, his praise, his body, his soul, his smile. Oh, how she missed his smile.

He never smiled at her anymore. He’d nod—a grudging acknowledgement of her presence when she entered a room. Like they were strangers in an elevator, passers on the street, ships in the night, except he’d happily smile at strangers, and passers, and ships, and he never smiled at her anymore. There was a time, not that long ago, when his face lit up when he saw her, and her whole body would respond as if he’d physically touched her.

Damn, she missed that. And the teasing. And the flirting. Even the fighting.

She grabbed some coffee and walked out into the bullpen. Harm was in his office, his head bent over a file, so he wouldn’t notice if she decided to stand and stare at him for awhile longer. She knew she wasn’t without blame in the situation. In fact, she was almost completely responsible for the cold reception she’d earned from him every morning for the last week or so.

After all, he had made overtures.

He’d shown up at her apartment with dinner and vague, wishy-washy, open-ended overtures, but overtures just the same. And she’d reacted badly. On some level, she’d known what it cost him to take another chance on her. After Paraguay, after Webb, after everything.

But old fears and new doubts had spilled out like ugly stains before she could mop them up—pretty them up before he could see what an awful coward she’d become. And so he’d nodded politely and said goodnight.

It might as well have been goodbye.

He’d made overtures. What an inadequate word for what he’d been offering. His love? His heart? His life? They’d been through too much for her to mistake it for anything less. He’d been offering everything she wanted—everything she was afraid to accept. As soon as the door closed behind him, she’d wanted to run after him—try to repair the damage, but she hadn’t. She’d sat there, all alone in her apartment, afraid that something vital was gone for good.

A future with Harm had never been anything but a hazy possibility, a glimmer of hope for something somewhere down the road. But that hope had sustained her through the good times and the bad. Even when he’d been gone from her life, she’d never really believed that they were done with each other. How could they be?

He was a part of her—like having brown hair and brown eyes. Having him as her best friend wasn’t something she questioned. Having him in her life was a given, and it gave her a measure of emotional security that she’d taken for granted.

And it had all been terribly unfair to him. He was a flesh-and-blood man who deserved so much more, and when it came right down to it, so did she. After too many sleepless nights, she was ready to admit that. And since she’d screwed things up, it was left to her to try to fix them. He might not want to talk to her. He might think it was another chapter in the same old push me-pull me game they’d been playing for years. But she was through playing, and she was through being a coward where her heart and his were concerned.

**

“Your door could really use a new coat of paint.” So, it wasn’t the best opening line she’d ever come up with, but she’d stared at his door for longer than she should have while trying to gather the courage to knock.

He stared at her without expression. “You came all the way over here to tell me that?” He made no move to invite her inside.

She shifted her hold on the grocery sack and the pizza box while she tried to think of a new approach. “Can I come in? I brought dinner.”

“Mac, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Have you eaten?” She tried not to sound desperate.

“No, but—“

“Well then, you’re in luck. I got your favorite from Gino’s. And I got that frozen yogurt you like for dessert. Come on. You have to eat.” She wasn’t above bullying her way into his apartment. She took a step forward, and he moved back, probably just to avoid the contact, but it gave her room to maneuver her way past him.

She walked over and put the food on the kitchen island and then opened the pizza box, hoping the tantalizing aroma would waft across the room and make her visit more palatable. “The pizza’s still warm, and I’ve got salad stuff here, too.” She was afraid to quit talking, and for now, food was a safe enough topic. But he hadn’t moved away from the front door. This was not going the way she’d hoped.

“Look, Mac, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but if this is about the other night, I get it. I’m not going to force the issue anymore, and I’m really not hungry.” He walked over to the island, but it was only to re-close the lid to the pizza box. So much for the way to a man’s heart…

She plunged ahead, trying to ignore the nerves that seemed to be doing the cha-cha in her stomach. “This isn’t about the other night—well, not exactly. It’s more about everything that’s happened from the day we met, right up until this very moment, Harm. And I am sorry for the other night. You caught me off guard, so I understand if you don’t want to force the issue ever again. But somebody has to, so I guess it’s my turn.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Mac.” His mood changed from unwelcoming to complete exasperation in the blink of an eye. “This is what I mean. Taking turns. Chasing, and then running away until the other one starts chasing back. It’s gotten childish and old, and I can’t do it anymore. Not for the sake of our friendship, not for the sake of our working relationship. I used to think that this thing—whatever it is—would go somewhere someday, but you made it pretty clear that you’re no longer interested. I respect that. You’re just going to have to give me some time to get used to the idea. That’s all.” He sat down on a bar stool across the counter from her. At least he hadn’t thrown her out yet, but he looked like it was next on his list of things to do.

She was quiet for a moment, trying to regroup. She hadn’t come this far, only to give up so easily. “Can I ask you something?”

“I’m probably going to regret this, but go ahead.”

The sigh that accompanied his statement was overly dramatic in her opinion, but since she was the one doing the groveling, she should probably keep that opinion to herself. Squaring her shoulders, she asked instead, “What do you want from me, Harm? Right now, this minute. Do you want me to leave, because if that’s really and truly what you want, I will. I’ll walk away, and we can learn to stay out of each other’s hair—finally and for good. But if you’ll let me stay, I’d appreciate a do-over.”

“A do-over?” He sounded leery.

“Yeah, you know. I made a mistake, so I get a do-over.”

“What mistakes would those be?” He eyed her suspiciously as if she was still trying to sell him a case of snake oil.

“I said ‘mistake’, as in one.” He was obviously going to make her spell it out, and that was only fair, she supposed. Under the circumstances she hadn’t expected him to meet her halfway. “I’ll demonstrate, so you’ll see what I’m talking about.” She walked around the kitchen counter until she was standing in front of his barstool. “The other night at my apartment you said that you thought it was time for a change in our relationship.”

“And that went over like a lead balloon. Do we really need to rehash all of this?”

“That’s what do-overs are for. Let’s pretend you’ve just made that same suggestion.”

“Mac—“

Before he could say anything else, she kissed him. Full on the mouth, without hesitation or backwards glances. He let her do all the work, not responding completely, but not stopping her either. She understood that this might seem like more of the same old song and dance. She didn’t blame him. These were steps they’d danced before. Shared kisses, promising words that led nowhere.

So, she understood that she had her work cut out for her. “That’s what I should have done the other night,” she said quietly as she pulled away.

The expression in his eyes softened a bit, but otherwise, he didn’t seem overly impressed with her efforts. “But this is what we do, Mac. We always have regrets for what we didn’t do—what we should have done. A kiss doesn’t change who we are, and we’ve gotten too good at playing it safe.”

“I agree completely, and I’ve come here tonight with every intention of changing all that.”

“What exactly do you have in mind?” At least now he sounded mildly curious. It was almost enough to give her hope.

She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I plan to wreck us altogether. To ruin us from ever being able to go back to that safe, polite place where we’ve learned to live these past few years, no matter what it costs us. So, hold on to your hat, mister, because I plan to kiss you again. And again, and again, until we can’t think, or see, or stand up straight.”

She’d almost made it back to his mouth when he stopped her with a question. “Why are you doing this?”

She looked at him directly, and said without hesitation, “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

Pain flashed in his eyes. “What if we don’t survive the aftermath, Mac?”

“Hell, Harm, I’m barely hanging on now.”

He stood up then and grabbed her arm, dragging her across the room. She’d known that he might throw her out. She’d been willing to take the chance, but now she was two seconds away from falling to her knees and begging for one more chance. When he dragged her clear past the front door and up the steps to the bedroom, she almost sobbed with relief.

“What are you doing, Harm?” When he tossed her on the bed it seemed fairly obvious, but she needed to hear him say it. She needed to know that this was what he wanted, too.

“I’ve stopped trying to stop you, Mac. And if I have to put up with all the kissing you have in mind, I’d just as soon be comfortable.” He came down beside her on the bed. They were face to face, nose to nose, eye to eye but not yet touching. “Well, what’s the hold up? I’m ready to take my punishment like a man.”

“I’ll have you know that comfortable is not the feeling my kisses usually evoke.” She tried for indignant, but her smile was ear to ear.

“We’ll see. After all these years it might be like kissing my great aunt Lucy.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Damn straight, Marine. I’m ready for some action, and so far all I’ve gotten is a lot of cheap talk.”

She started on the buttons of his shirt, ignoring the lure of his lips only inches away. “This is for your own good. I kiss better when you’re wearing less clothes.”

“All the women feel that way.” His smile was the cocky one, the one that made all the women feel that way.

“So, now we’re going to talk about your other women?” She pulled his shirt open, allowing her fingers to trail over the planes of his chest, and watched his eyes darken with desire.

“Based on your earlier statements, I didn’t think we’d be talking at all, but I must have misunderstood.” His fingers wandered into her hair, tilting her face back up to his.

“Just so we’re clear, I plan to ruin you for other women, too.” Her lips brushed his, fleetingly, teasingly, before pulling away.

He chased her, dropping a short, chaste kiss on her mouth and then stopped before it could deepen. “You did that a long time ago, Mac. Don’t you know that?”

“I’m willing to be convinced. But I see women all the time—they take one look at you and go ga-ga.”

“Except you. You’re not the ga-ga type, are you Mac?”

“Take off your shirt, and I’ll show you ga-ga.”

“You sure are pushy, and I’m still waiting for all those kisses you promised. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Okay. You’re right, and once I get started the clothes will practically fly off by themselves anyway.”

“More cheap talk and still no action.” He shook his head and then pointed to his mouth. “Come on, baby, plant a big one on me right here.” He closed his eyes and puckered his lips.

She laughed—knowing now was the moment of truth. Now was the very instant her life would change forever and ever.

She pressed her mouth to his tenderly, deeply, reverently, and with all her heart. He kissed her back, again, and again and again, and it was clear that there would be no turning back. With every kiss her doubts and fears faded. With every touch of his lips tenderness turned to need. With every sweep and taste of his tongue she sank a little deeper in love.

Hours later she was sprawled across the bed sideways. She could no longer see straight, or think straight, and she had no desire to stand up ever again. She’d live out the rest of her life in that bed if it was possible. Harm was licking frozen yogurt from her belly button, and what that man could do with pizza should be illegal. It probably was in most states. She’d have to look that up the next time she was in the law library.

Harm rolled her languid body toward him, nuzzling her neck. “Mac?”

“Hmmm?” She was incapable of forming any hard consonant sounds.

Harm on the other hand seemed to have no trouble forming hard things, things that were currently pressed insistently against her thigh. “Are you awake?”

“Sort of.” She managed to open one eye.

“I think we need another do-over.”

“Start without me. I’ll catch up as we go along.” She barely had the strength to move, but that’s what she’d thought the last two times, and he’d proven her wrong.

“Mac, look at me. This is important.”

She opened her other eye and focused on his face. “You look so serious. What’s wrong?”

“I made a mistake, and I want a do-over.”

She managed to pull herself into a sitting position and covered herself with the sheet trying to prepare herself for whatever he was about to say.

“I knew this wasn't right, but I let myself get carried away.”

She pulled the sheet tighter, her heart pounding at his words. “I threw myself at you, Harm. Don’t blame yourself.”

“Oh, I don’t. I blame you for everything.”

“What?”

“If I’d been thinking straight, I’d have been able to tell you a few things up front. Before we—” he waved vaguely at the bed, “—you know.”

“Had sex?” She was starting to feel a little perturbed by his attitude. “Four times?”

“Four and a half, but who’s counting? My point is, that now that I can think straight again, I realize what a mistake it was not to tell you I love you first, Mac. Because I do, love you. I mean, I know that you know that I do, but you deserve the words. And I wanted to say them—before we—you know.” He waved at the bed again.

She dropped the sheet and threw herself on top of him. “You mean before we made love?”

“Exactly.” He sighed. “Now that that’s taken care of let’s get on with the rest of the do-over.”

He tried to kiss her but she stopped him when a sudden thought occurred to her. “Harm, you do know that I love you, too, right? I have for a long, long time. Probably longer than you’ve loved me, but who’s counting?”

This time when he tried to kiss her she didn’t stop him.

It was the right thing to do.

The End