The Clarity of Darkness--Part1b
Author: doc

Part 1b

“Sarah,” her name dies on my lips. I sit up in a cold sweat gasping for breath. Taking in my surrounds, I realize I’ve been asleep in my own bed. It was all a dream…or rather a horrible, frightening nightmare. Glancing around my bedroom, I ascertain that I am indeed in my bed…and alone. I struggle to calm my galloping heart and drop back against the tangle of pillows and sheets that have managed to ensnare me in their grasp.

The early light of the morning sunrise is peeking through the slats of my blinds. As I investigate the four walls of my room, I notice that nothing is out of place, save for the unruly disaster of my bed. Listening with the uttermost concentration, I hear the familiar sounds of my abode. The ticking of a clock, the traffic on the street, the blowing sounds of the furnace, and the gurgling rush of the coffeemaker as the water heats.

As my heart rate returns to normal, I slowly rise from my bed, kicking off the restraints of the bed linens. Making my way into the bathroom, I take care of my normal morning routine. Standing before the mirror, I take note of my appearance. My skin is pale and still glistens with a fine sheen of sweat. Dark circles ring my eyes, and the tiny lines that crease my brow seem to have deepened overnight into intense furrows.

As I splash cold water over my face, I vow to heed the message of my dream. Life is short, and love not to be taken for granted. I feel like I’m Ebenezer Scrooge from ‘A Christmas Carol.’ I’ve been granted a second chance. One I will not waste.

I amble through my bedroom with a lighter step and shiver in the cool morning air. The dampness of my skin adds to the chill. I head down the stairs in search of a cup of much needed caffeine, before I return to shower. Just as I reach the dining room of my loft, my nose detects a light floral scent. I peer through the open space searching out the source. I am thrilled to note that no unwelcome redhead has made herself at home in my space. I inhale deeper, trying to place the scent. It’s subtle and sweet as if it lingers left behind. My heart accelerates within my chest when I realize the perfume is completely unfamiliar. As in, it doesn’t belong to Mac, and that weighty sense of dread returns.

It is at that moment that I notice the article of clothing sitting on my bar. I approach it with trepidation, as if it might strike like a poisonous snake. Placed atop the billowing cloth is a pair of tickets. I reach out with quivering hand and grasp the torn paper stubs. Opening my eyes a millimeter at a time, I gasp when I read the name of the event and the date. Oh, please no, I plead to Him who is holy on high. It can’t be! But sure enough, they are the tickets to the romantic concert planned in my dream. And worse yet, they have clearly been used for attendance…the night before.

I set them aside and lightly stroke the surface of the black velvet wrap. Drawing it into my hands, I raise it to my face and am immediately overwhelmed by the unwelcome fragrance of that mystery perfume. I carefully unfold the soft black velvet shawl and am filled with horror. Embroidered in a delicate wispy script is a large letter ‘M’. How can that be? My dream…my nightmare has now become my reality. I lift the final piece of damning evidence from its velvety depths and hold it up for scrutiny in the dim morning light. Sunlight reflects off its shiny surface, illuminating the long curly strand of rich auburn hair.

It seems surreal and impossible, but the evidence damns me to my core. It’s real!

I arrive in the bullpen a short time later not even remembering showering or shaving. I rub my hand over my chin to verify the performance of that necessary task. If today goes as feared, I’ll need the General on my side. Best not to tick him off too early.

I cross to her office and once again take note, door closed and locked, lights out, no activity. I peer between the slats of the blinds and find a cleared, empty desk. Shaking off the sense of déjà vu, I head to Coates’ desk.

Jen looks up from her activities and acknowledges my presence, “Good morning, Sir. Is there something you need?”

“Actually Jen, there is. I’m looking for Colonel MacKenzie.”

“Oh, she’s not here, Commander. She’s was sent out of country to….”

“Naples?” I complete her sentence.

“Yes Sir, how’d you know?”

“A dream,” I mumble under my breath. “Could you please get me in to see the General?”

“Sure, he should be available…”

I cross to the office before she can explain and rap on the door. I barge in and come to attention in front of his desk, before Creswell can even bark the command to ‘enter.’

“Ent…ah, can I do something for you, Commander Rabb?”

“Yes Sir,” I remain rigid at attention stance, “…I was hoping to take some leave time. I need to take care of some personal business.”

“I see,” his eyes narrow as he regards me, “…is this personal business something I need to know about?”

“No Sir!”

“Well, this isn’t the best time, Commander. With the Colonel out of the office….”

“Italy Sir, she’s in….”

“I’m well aware of that! Commander, do you plan to make a habit out of interrupting me?”

“No Sir, it’s just that I need….”

“Personal leave, I got that part. I can’t really spare you right now, not when we’re already down one senior attorney.” The General watched the man before him slump forward out of his rigid stance. “But….”

My head whips back up to catch his gaze, “But Sir?”

He nods at me with a bemused smile, “But, there was a flight mishap on the Patrick Henry last night. The CAG is requesting your expertise for the investigation.”

“Yes Sir,” my reply is less than enthusiastic.

“I’m told you might get a chance to fly while you there.”

“Yes Sir.”

Creswell shakes his head, “Commander, I’m giving you 8 days to complete your investigation. Eight days, no more.”

“Understood Sir.”

“Commander?” My eyes rise to meet his. “If you can manage to finish your investigation in less than the allotted time, feel free to attend to that personal business.”

“Yes Sir!” my eyes light up.

“I believe the Patrick Henry is positioned in the Arabian Sea just a flight away from….”

“Italy,” I whisper. “Yes Sir, thank you, General. Request permission to….”

“Dismissed Rabb!”

“Yes Sir!” I click my heels and quickly pivot to leave. Italy…I’m on my way to you, Sarah. No running this time.

***

I make my way into the NSLO building in Naples. The investigation took longer than I anticipated. Five days. Five Days! Accounting for travel time back to Washington that only leaves me 2 days to convince Mac that I’m still here. That she’s the only woman for me. That I’m sorry for disregarding her feelings. That she’s all that I want or need. Two days…48 hours, to ensure my eternity.

I approach the enlisted person at the first desk that I encounter. “Excuse me, Petty Officer?”

“Magalis, Sir…Petty Officer Magalis. May I help you?”

I smile nervously at the young woman as the sound of her name sends a chill down my spine. “Yes, I’m looking for Colonel MacKenzie.”

“She’s in court, Sir.”

“I see,” the monumental task before me is beginning to take its toll. If I’m going to convince Mac that I still want her, I’m going to need all of my allotted 48 hours and then some. I suddenly realize I’m standing dumbstruck before Mac’s legal assist, and I haven’t uttered a single word in over 3 minutes.

“I’m sorry, Petty Officer…Magalis, was it?”

“Yes Sir.”

“I was wondering if I might wait in the Colonel’s office,” I flash her a watered-down version of my fighter jock smile.

“Sir, may I ask what this is in regards to?”

“Of course, I’m sorry. I’m a friend of the Colonel’s from JAG HQ. We’ve served together for a number of years. I just finished up an investigation out in the Arabian Sea and was hoping to spend some time with Mac…ah, Colonel MacKenzie.”

“Well….”

At that moment, I hear Mac’s voice drift into the room from around the corner. She enters the office eyes sparkling and a smile on her face. She catches me out of the corner of her eye and her smile grows in intensity.

“Harm! What are you doing here?”

This isn’t the reception I had anticipated…or rather had dread. I flash her my best flyboy grin, “Hey Marine, I was just in the area. The General sent me out to investigate a mishap on the Patrick Henry. I finished a couple days early and thought maybe we could spend some time together.”

“I’ve got court this morning, but I might be able to break away this afternoon. Why don’t you follow me into my office.”

I release a nervous sigh and follow close behind. This isn’t how I imagined this situation playing out. She doesn’t seem bothered in the least about our last exchange or Megan’s presence in my live.

“Ah Mac….”

She continues to chatter away, “Hey, I managed to snag quarters close to the sea, maybe we could spend the evening….”

She trails off and turns to study me, “Hey Sailor, are you okay? You’re awfully quiet.”

“Just tired I guess…all those time zone changes.”

“At least I’ve had a week to settle in.” She gives me a mischievous grin and pokes her finger in my chest, “Don’t tell me you’re gonna fall asleep on me tonight.”

“Nooo…I was sorta hoping…we could talk.”

“Sure,” she opens her office door, “…by the way, how was the concert the other night?”

And the proverbial other shoe drops, “About that, I’m really sorry, Mac. I didn’t mean any of those things I said to you.”

“What?”

“And ah, about Megan…I’m not interested in her in any capacity. She was just someone I helped out while I was on my TAD a few weeks back. I didn’t know she was gonna show up in D.C., much less at JAG. I don’t know what I was thinking…taking her to lunch, dinner, the concert.”

Mac’s expression changes from one of pure happiness to intense hurt. A ring of tears wells in her eyes. She struggles to swallow, then bows her head. “It’s okay, Harm,” her voice cracks and she pauses to calm the tremor. “You’re allowed to see whomever you want,” inhaling deeply, she forces her eyes to open wider to stop the fall of tears. “I…I have no hold over you.”

“Mac, that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

She turns back to her office, “I should get back to work. About tonight, I just remembered I have a witness to prepare for.”

“Maaac,” I reach for her arm and turn her back toward me. The tears have now broken loose and trail down her cheeks. I wish the earth would open up and swallow me whole.

“Mac…Sarah, I need to explain….”

“Let go of me!”

“Sarah…Please!”

“No, I can’t believe you came all this way to confess some new love interest to me. I thought we were….” She pulls from my grasp and closes the office door behind her.

“Maaac, please listen to me!” I can feel the eyes of the enlisted personnel burning into my back. I beat on her door trying one last time, “Sarah, you…me…we can’t run away from this all our lives.”

I feel a strong hand grasp my arm, “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

***

I try desperately to shake away the memories of those days. Now, I’m just left with my dreams of her. I try to roll to my side and tuck her in closer to me, but the weight upon my chest impedes my movements. My dreams have become more vivid of late. I imagine her every curve, her face, her eyes…those luscious full lips. If only I’d grabbed hold of my piece of perfection sooner. I had the chance long before I threw it away. Before Italy, and Paraguay, before my murder trial. We were so close. ‘We can’t run away all our lives.’ The words reverberate through my mind.

“Harm, wake up,” sings a sweet lilting voice.

“No,” I softly sulk back.

My dreams are certainly becoming more realistic, or is my reality simply morphing into lunacy. I’m even talking to her now. I ponder briefly, whether insanity feels like this.

“Come on, Sailor. Open your eyes!” her breath whispers softly against my cheek.

“No!”

“Why not?” her warm lips gently caress and dry my tears.

Tears, where did those come from? In all the many nights, I’ve indulged in my illusions and dreams; I’ve never cried. Never. I don’t allow myself that weakness. I don’t deserve to seek the solace of tears.

Cool fingers slide over my cheek and down my neck. She nuzzles her nose into mine then finds my lips with hers once again. My hand slips under the silk of her blouse and runs up the curve of her back. I count each rib and spine, memorizing their feel…never wanting to forget. So delicate, so thin, so perfect. My marine is nothing if not an enigma. Lithe and fragile in appearance…yet so strong and able underneath. Emotions held in check, close to the cuff, tough…yet so tender and giving at the core of her heart.

Her lips meander a path to my ear. “Open your eyes, sweetheart,” she whispers against my skin and goosebumps march down my neck and across my chest.

Sweetheart, I like the sound of that. She’s never called me sweetheart before. Harm is her usual choice, or Rabb, if she’s angry. Occasionally, she calls me Sailor or Flyboy, and they sound like an endearment, but never sweetheart. Her fingers softly stroke my closed eyelids and try to will them open.

“I don’t want to,” I reply, resisting the pull of wakeful consciousness.

“Why not?”

“Because then you’ll disappear. You’re never here when I open my eyes.”

“But you’re missing the full moon and wonderful starlit sky. Don’t you wanna make a wish? I thought you loved the stars on a peaceful quiet night…granted it’s not an Afghan desert.”

Stars and moon? In my bedroom?

“And what about that ocean breeze? You can’t sleep away the whole evening. Open your eyes and enjoy the view.”

I notice the gentle breeze ruffling through my hair. The sound of the waves lapping at the shore. That incredible scent, a mixture of her and exotic flowers. My dream never felt this real before.

“I love you, and I promise to always be here. Open your eyes.”

She loves me? I slowly blink away the sleep and smile when I find her grinning down at me.

“Hey!”

There’s that sexy voice. The one she knows turns my heart inside out. Of course, I can work my own brand of magic on her as well. By mutual agreement, we’ve decided THOSE voices stay at home behind closed doors.

“Hey,” I smile back, even as the wonderful Sarah-illusion of my dream is still warm and fuzzy at the back of my mind.

“You were having that dream again, weren’t you?” she gently cajoles.

Thankfully, the blush in my cheeks is lost amongst the darkness of the night. I trail my fingers down her back and over her hip trying to distract her.

“You haven’t had that one in a while.” I drag my hand lower still, trying to work my magic. “Why now?”

I shrug in embarrassment. I should know by now that she’s not easily distracted, except when I do…this.

She gasps and wiggles away, “Oh, no you don’t! You’re not gonna distract me. Now what happened today to make that nightmare return?”

“Don’t know,” I pull her back in close. “Maybe it’s being back in Italy? Or the painting?”

“I can understand that…I guess,” her fingertips stroke through my hair. This woman can excite me…or relax me…with a single touch. She can send me into such a swirl of emotions that I sometimes forget my own name.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she gently persists.

“Think so,” I push my face further into her palm.

“Thinks so or are sure?”

She knows me so well. If I don’t move past the dream, I tend to dwell on the ‘almosts’. The almost hurt. The almost missed chances. The almost end of my life. She waits for my reply. She knows just how to make it all right. This horrible, terrible nightmare that almost became my reality, except….

“Tell me the rest,” I whisper and then patiently wait for the start of her tale.

“Once upon a time there was a sailor….” I laugh at her silliness and already her antics are making me forget the unsettling night terror.

“Who loved a marine so fair,” I add my own verse to the tale. And we wander back in time to erase all doubt and hurt.

Her calming voice takes me back…

***

…“Sarah, you…me…we can’t run away from this all our lives.” You almost beat down my office door. I stood there with my forehead against the cold wood structure and let my tears fall. I couldn’t believe we could be so close, and still lose everything in the end.

I heard the guard tell you to leave and then there was silence. I couldn’t make myself move away from that door. And then I heard it.

“For once Sarah, I’m going to admit my true feelings. You can choose to ignore them or not.”

I stood motionless against the door, waiting, listening…daring to hope.

Then my sailor finally let go, “I love you, Sarah. Nothing is ever going to change that. Please can we try to talk this through?”

And I waited some more. Completely and totally stunned…motionless. How could you admit to moving on with someone else one minute, and then declare your undying love for me the next? It didn’t make sense. I couldn’t make myself move or speak.

And I almost missed out. Just as I opened my office door to invite you in, the guard was escorting you out. Luckily, I found my command voice and yelled, “HALT.”

I pause in my retelling of the tale, when I sense his lips turning up in a childish grin. “Something funny, Sailor?”

“You should have seen the expression of that marine guard’s face. He didn’t know what to do. I think he thought we were both crazy. We’re probably lucky we didn’t both end up in the brig for disturbing the peace.”

I chuckle right along with him, then clear my voice, “Alright, exactly whose tale is this to tell?”

He releases a deep belly laugh and I know the somber moment has almost passed. “This part of the tale is all yours, Marine.”

“Okay, where was I? Oh yes, the big bad Marine Colonel had to rescue the lowly Naval Commander from the brig.” His laughter bubbles up again and I freely join in. His arms tighten around me tucking me tighter against his side.

“Once I rescued you from the guard, we retreated into my office to discuss our personal life in private. It was bad enough we ended up making the ‘Navy Times’.” His laughter sputters out once more. “Hey, don’t laugh…as the senior officer, I had to explain our behavior to General Creswell. We were lucky he didn’t strip us a rank.”

“Yeah, yeah…back to the story, Marine.”

“Anyway, when we got behind closed doors, I was still angry with you,” I jab a finger into his chest. “You might have declared your undying love, but you were still dating someone else.”

“Not exactly….”

“Shush, no interruptions from the audience,” I pinch his side to make my point.

“Hey,” he swats my hand away, “…be nice!”

“Sorry,” I lean up to deliver a quick soothing peck to his lips.

“Anyways, I started asking you questions about this Megan-woman. I knew I’d never heard you mention her before. Then you started rambling on about me seeing her in JAG ops. At that point, I almost dragged you to the ‘Loony Bin’. I knew I had never seen a pretty redhead hanging around your office.”

“That was my first hint that my ‘reality’ wasn’t quite as real as I thought,” he added again to the tale.

“Right, then you started going on and on about my not wanting to attend the concert with you. That’s when I knew things didn’t add up. I had planned to go with you that night, right up until Sturgis got sent on that TAD to Florida. I had to take his overnight call, and ended up getting sent to Norfolk to investigate a bunch of rowdy squids.”

“And you suggested that I take Mattie along to the concert instead.”

“Right, that’s why your confession of taking Megan didn’t make any sense. I finally got you to come clean about the whole nightmare scenario….”

“Including the part about the black velvet wrap with the letter ‘M’,” he thoughtfully throws in.

“And that’s when it all fell into place! The ‘M’ was for Mattie not Megan. I had given Mattie that wrap as a late Christmas gift. And of course, you forgot she also has auburn hair!”

“I didn’t know whether to jump for joy, because none of it had actually happened and thus I hadn’t ruined our chance,” he chuckles again, “…or cry for fear because I was losing my mind.”

“I managed to curb both of your irrational reactions, by throwing myself into your arms and kissing you senseless. Who knew Harmon Rabb was so easily silenced and befuddled!” And I’m laughing again at the utter ridiculousness of the situation that almost ended all hope.

Once we both finally calm down, our lips meet in a wonderful sensual embrace. When we come up for some much need air, I ask my question once more. “So why do you think your dream came back again after all this time?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “…I guess partly because we’re back in Italy. And maybe because of the painting.”

Ah, the picture…it took us a while, but we finally figured out what triggered Harm’s initial nightmare in the first place. You see, Megan Ransford was actually quite smitten with my sailor for a spell. Shortly after his return from that investigation in California, Megan sent him a painting. It was the one he had commented on as being his favorite. Harm wasn’t quite sure what to do with the gift. He didn’t want to risk insult by returning it, but he also didn’t feel comfortable displaying it either. So what did my sailor do? He hid it under a basket as the saying goes, or more specifically in the back of his bedroom closet. I think he was worried I might get the wrong impression, and he was feeling more than a little guilty about their kiss. Yes, the ‘Truth and Justice’ Boy Scout finally fessed up and told me about the kiss. He swore she kissed him, not the other way around, but he was worried I might hear far worse from our newest addition to JAG HQ…one very bubbly and verbose, Lt. Catherine Graves.

We figured Harm’s guilt had eaten away at him and had manifested itself in the nightmare. Not that my handsome sailor ever gets obsessed over anything!

Anyway, back to the story. Once Harm confessed about the painting, I wanted to see it. I had to agree, Megan had real talent. We decided to display the painting in our new home…enter one Trish Burnett to the mix. Harm’s mom came for a visit and was instantly taken with the artist’s creativity and talent. Trish contacted Megan and offered her a gallery showing. It was at this showing, months later, that Trish told Megan about her new daughter-in-law. Megan sent us a new painting as a belated wedding gift. A beautiful sunrise, rich in color, and vibrant with the promise of a new day. A simple note was attached, ‘I hope each new sunrise grants you the promise of a perfect tomorrow.’

How does all this tie into my husband’s return of the dreaded nightmare? In the beginning, he seemed to have the nightmare on a fairly regularly basis, hence our routine of retelling the ‘true’ tale. Then it just gradually disappeared. This is the first he’s been stuck in the throws of that dreaded dream in quite some time…months actually. My best guess? It’s a combination of the belated wedding gift from Megan, and our return to Italy for a second honeymoon. Our first honeymoon wasn’t so much a honeymoon, as a weekend escape to get married. We decided we weren’t taking anything for granted anymore, or risking another chance at screwing us up. Harm proposed to me on bended knee, right in my Naples office, on that very day. We were married a month later. Oh yeah, I guess it might be important to know that I wasn’t really reassigned to Naples. They just needed a temporary senior attorney while one of theirs was out on extended leave. And as luck would have it, my apartment flooded, when a series of old pipes burst, while I was away in Norfolk on that very same concert night. General Creswell thought I was the best choice as a temporary replacement, since my apartment was being renovated and I had no place to live. Funny how a series of seemingly unrelated events, a harrowing nightmare and a vivid imagination can send your life into a tail spin.

I allow my trip down memory lane to recede into the background of my mind. I think my sailor has fully recovered now, if his wandering hands are any sign. Before he gets too confident, I intend to knock him off his stride once more.

“Harm?”

“Mmmm,” his lips are moving toward that spot on my neck he knows drives me wild.

“Harm!”

“What? Can’t you see I’m busy here?” he huffs in reply.

“No one said you had to stop, just take a break for a minute and listen to me.”

“Don’t wanna,” he mumbles against the skin of my neck.

I pull back before he can distract me further and grasp his face in both my palms. He sighs and gives me a pout. I don’t know if I can withstand two of them. I shake my head in wonder at the overwhelming thought.

“Harm, are you listening to me?”

“Do I have much of a choice?”

Oh great, sarcasm…I know how to smack that right out of him.

“Harm, do you think the baby will like vacationing in Italy?”

“I don’t know, what’s there to do besides….” His eyes grow wide as saucers when my words sink in. “What did you just say?”

“I wanted to know if you thought Italy was a good place to vacation with a child? Or maybe Disney World, at least while he/she is young. Yeah, Disney World is probably a better choice. Best to save the architectural ruins for when they’re a little older.”

“Mac?!”

“Of course, there’s always the beach or the desert. The Grand Canyon is nice….”

“MAC!”

“Yes Harm?”

“Did the adoption agency call? Are we getting a child?”

The look of excitement on his face is breathtaking. Too bad my answer to that question is, ”No.”

“But you said,” his expression falls.

“I asked you whether you thought Italy was a good place to bring the baby?”

“Yeah, but you just said,” is his incredulous retort. I can tell his frustration is growing. And after the earlier events of the night, it’s probably best not to push it.

“I said the adoption agency hasn’t called…but my OB did. We’re pregnant!” Okay, so now he’s absolutely catatonic.

“Harm? Sailor? Sweetheart, are you still with me?”

Suddenly, I’m flying through the air, before being buried under his considerable muscular bulk. Who knew my sailor was so acrobatic…and in a hammock, no less. I would say by the exuberance of his kisses and his wandering hands that he’s excited about my news. I might be tempted to ask him that very question, if I could voice a coherent thought.

Oh well, words are clearly overrated! I understand his actions just fine, now!

The End


AN: Okay, so hopefully the last third of the story made up for the miserable place I took you in the beginning. I hope I was able to maintain most of my audience to the end. For those of you who bailed early, maybe the reviews will entice you to come back and finish. As for my little experiment, a girl has to have a little fun sometimes! I could NEVER actually break-up our favorite dynamic duo, I’m a dyed in the wool, 100%, true-blue shipper, after all…but sometimes it’s fun to play with something just a little different. Thanks for reading.