Author: ColieMacKenzie
Subject:
HBX Challenge November 2006: Going Once... Going Twice...
Sold!
Disclaimer: JAG and its characters do not belong to me.
No copyright infringement is intended. I'm just borrowing them for
my, and hopefully other people's entertainment.
A/N: H&M
Humor/Romance, PG-13ish, I think.
A/N: I handed in a
ridiculously long and difficult paper yesterday, and as soon as that
was done, this idea popped into my head. I spent all afternoon
writing, and actually missed a class by accident - I hope it was
worth it (and don't tell my professor that this was the reason I
missed the class)! Please enjoy.
--------------------------------------
GOING ONCE...
GOING TWICE... SOLD!
How did I get roped into this silly thing
again? It will be so embarrassing, never mind degrading! But it’s
too late to get out of it now, and I promised to do it. I grab my
cover from my desk to head on home and get ready, when I see her
flitting through the bullpen. That’s it; I’ll need some
moral support tonight, that’s what I’ll need.
“Mac,”
I call out, and she comes to a stop and turns in my direction. Oh,
that smile of hers... If she knew that my knees go weak every time
she smiles at me, I think I’d never win another case against
her.
“Do you have plans tonight?”
“I’m
going out to dinner, why?”
“Oh, never mind then,”
I dismiss my own question, and start heading in the direction of the
elevator. I’m trying hard to hide my disappointment, but I
probably wasn’t very successful because she grabs my sleeve to
halt my flight.
“I’m just meeting my AA sponsor,”
she tells me, “but it already wasn’t the most convenient
for her; I could meet her tomorrow instead.” She’s
looking at me *that way* again, and I’m melting on the inside.
I won’t show it, of course; outwardly I’m trying to pull
off manly and unfazed. Oh, who am I kidding…?
“Uhm,
you see, I have this charity thing to go to tonight…” I
am fumbling, this will be so embarrassing.
“It’s
for a children’s benefit, which is the only reason I agreed to
the silly concept… My mom roped me into; well my mom knows
someone, who knows someone, who throws this thing, and they thought I
should participate…” She’s giving me her own
personal just-spit-it-out-Harmon look, the slightly amused, slightly
impatient, slightly curious one.
“Uhm, you see, it’s
one of those auction things…”
“What is
being auctioned off?”
“Men!” I blurt out,
and the next thing I know, she bursts out laughing.
“Oh,
and one of those men to be auctioned off is you?” She seems to
find the concept extremely hilarious; I can’t blame her, if it
weren’t me who has to do it, I’d laugh, too.
“Yeah,
so, uhm, I could really use some moral support to get through it, you
know, from my best friend.” I give her my
you-can’t-deny-me-anything smile, and I’m aware I’m
being a bit manipulative, but I know that the best friend line will
do the trick.
“I wouldn’t want to miss *that*
show for the world,” she grins at me, trying to contain her
laughter. Just you wait till I get back at you for this, MacKenzie.
“Great!” I sigh in relief, “Thank you, Mac.
In that case, we should get going though; this thing starts early so
that after the auction, the winners can head off into the sunset with
their prizes…” She giggles at that again. “Pick
you up at 1800?”
“Ok… no, wait.” She
replies, “I should come pick you up. This way, I have my own
ride home, and you won’t need your car since you will be given
*a ride*.” My mouth drops open at that, and one look tells me
she meant it just as suggestively as she said it. Boy that woman can
flirt if she wants to. I have to laugh.
“Right. Good
idea. See you soon then.” Another one of what she refers to as
my flyboy smiles thrown at her, and then I’m on the elevator
heading home. Suddenly, my evening is looking a lot less bleak.
o
o o o o
At 1800 on the dot I arrive at his doorstep. Why is it
that the two of us can never do anything the conventional way? We
sort of have a date, if you look at it from an outside perspective,
as we are going to a charity ball event thing together. Yet we don’t
call it a date. I, the woman, pick up him, the man. I’m dressed
to impress, but he will go home with another woman. And knowing all
this, I still readily agreed to go with him. Not that he’d ever
ask me out on a real date anyways. I’d bang my head against the
wall if I weren’t afraid to ruin my hair. I sigh, accept my
fate, and knock at his door.
It flies open, and there he is.
I think I’m gaping at him, but I can’t help it. It
usually already throws me off course when I see him in his dress
whites, but what that man does to a suit should be illegal. It’s
dark, and he accentuated it by wearing a shirt in a color quite
similar to his eyes, and a tie a couple of shades darker. My tummy is
fluttering wildly, robbing me of my breath. I wish I could unknot his
tie and unhurriedly pull it off his neck…
“Earth
to MacKenzie,” I’m suddenly thrown out of my fantasy
world by a hand waving in front of my face.
“Why are
you staring at me?” He sounds a bit like he’s mocking me,
the b…
“You’re out of uniform,” I
blurt out. Duh, like that wasn’t obvious. I would really like
my ability to form coherent sentences to be given back to me!
“Yeah, well I thought maybe the Navy might not approve
of the concept if I do this in my dress whites, so I decided on a
suit instead.” He smiles at me, and a wave of desire crashes
through me, so powerful I’m almost drowning in it.
“Shall
we?” he asks, crooking his elbow. I slide my arm through the
formed loop and off we go.
o o o o o
By the time we
reach the venue where the charity evening is held, we have reverted
to our general chatting about everything and nothing. It was a little
awkward there at my door, but the moment passed quickly. The fact
that she likes me in my suit makes me feel totally elated – not
that she’d said anything, but I could tell from her reaction.
I’m really not quite as dense when it comes to her…
okay, I am *that* dense when it comes to her, might as well be honest
with myself. Why am I not just asking her out for once?
I
watch her driving; her nose has this cute little wrinkle that tells
me she is concentrating on the traffic, which is still quite heavy at
this hour. I notice that her hair is mussed up somehow, not as
straight as she usually wears it, more like she threw her head down,
shook her hair, then came back up and the hair just remained that
messy way. The effect is incredibly sexy, probably because it makes
me think of what she might look like in the morning, after a night of
intense, steamy love-making… Jeez, Rabb, get a grip! Ok, I
resolve, that’s it – I *will* ask her out, some day soon…
very soon.
Once we are parked, I head around the car to help
her out. Her arm once again slides through the crook of my elbow, and
I lead her into the building. When I sign in, I’m given my
instructions for the evening. I am to mix and mingle for an hour, but
should make my way behind the stage around 1930 until my name is
called out during the auction, at which point I am to strut across
something dangerously looking like a catwalk. All the while, Mac is
looking at me from the side, with quiet amusement written all over
her face, and I blush just a little. I’m grateful the foyer is
not that brightly lit so she doesn’t notice. God, this is going
to be embarrassing!
To her utter surprise, Mac is then handed
a sign with a number on it and has to put her name on a list. Every
woman receives one, we are informed, so she can do some bidding if
she were so inclined. Now it’s her turn to be embarrassed, and
I snicker at her. As an answer, she swats the plastic sign on my
arm.
“Laugh all you want, Sailor boy, but who knows,
maybe I’ll get myself the man of my dreams tonight!” With
that, she heads of towards the cloak room, with me right behind her.
She stands in line at the cloak room, and I come up behind
her. It comes in handy that I am about a head taller than her,
because it allows me to look over and see that her jacket is already
unbuttoned. I reach around her, one arm on each side of her
shoulders, and take the lapels of her coat. Deliberately slow, I open
it wider and wider, then pull it over her shoulders, revealing her
bare shoulders, her bare neck, her bare arms to me. I can’t
help it; I let my fingers graze across every part of her skin that I
pass by when I take off her coat. She’s standing so close to me
that I can notice her breath catching in her throat and goose bumps
breaking out on her skin. Everything around me fades and I’m
suddenly aware of only the two of us, standing in such close
proximity. She turns around, and I take her in, all of her. She looks
breathtakingly beautiful, in a dress the color of rich red wine. It
is only held up by thin straps over her shoulders, and is
accentuating every lush curve she has, flowing over her body. I can’t
take my eyes off her.
“Now you are staring at me,”
she points out, in a barely there whisper, “you’d think
you’d never seen me in a dress before.”
“I
have, I guess I’ve just never allowed myself to pay close
enough attention – until now.” My voice is just as
coarse, sexy and a little suggestive, because I’m really done
trying to hide how attracted I am to her. We are staring at each
other now; I hardly noticed that I’ve scooted closer to her,
our bodies almost touching, her warm eyes on me, her full lips shiny
and slightly opened…
“Who’s next?” A
loud voice interrupts us, and the spell is broken. Like kids caught
with their hands in the cookie jar, we break apart to face cloakroom
lady. I hand over our coats, and then Mac and I head into the
ballroom.
We get something to drink and mingle in the crowds.
I’m so glad I asked her to come along; it makes the whole
evening so much more bearable. I mean, there’s nobody else with
her sense of humor, roping me into a game of guess-the-secret-life of
the people around us, none of which we know, also known as
make-fun-of-strangers. All too quickly, an hour has passed, and Mac
lets me know that it is 1930. I sigh, accepting my fate. Before I
leave though, I have to kiss her. It’s just a barely-there
kiss, our lips touch all but a second, yet the electricity is
undeniable. I want her to remember that moment before she considers
buying another man for herself.
o o o o o
So far, this
evening has definitely turned out much more promising than I ever
thought it would. I find myself in a constant state of jittery
nerves, tingling toes, fluttering tummy; breathlessly awaiting the
next time he might touch me. Never would I have expected him to kiss
me though, and yet he did. Only to then head off to be sold to some
other woman. I cannot believe him!
Sort of bored, I watch the
procession of bachelors passing across the stage. Could I look at
things objectively, I’d say some of them were quite attractive,
with many interesting professions. The common conception among women
that ‘all the good men are taken’ seemingly doesn’t
quite hold true considering this parade of fascinating male-ness.
None of them hold a candle to my Flyboy though. Oh my, I have it bad.
Then it’s him on stage. I can almost feel how every
woman in the room suddenly stands at attention, figuratively
speaking. The auctioneer is rattling of Harm’s naval aviator
turned JAG lawyer life story, and when the bidding starts, women are
outbidding each other in rapid succession. I look up at him, and even
though he looks a bit embarrassed, he cannot hide the fact that he is
pleased by all the attention he’s getting.
When the
numbers reach a couple of thousand, the bidding slows down a bit;
there’s about three women right now who seem to be willing to
dish out the really big bucks tonight for a date with my Flyboy. All
of them are blonde, I realize. My ire is rising; will I have to live
through the next round of him falling for another blonde that’s
completely wrong for him? 7,000 $, one just bid, 8,000 the next. I
cannot believe my own stupidity, why do I do this to myself? Why did
I come along tonight, just to get my heart broken again? 9,000 $ just
came from blonde number three…
“15,000 Dollar!”
Oh no, tell me I did *not* just do that? I look at my arm, and yup,
sure enough, it is lifted up, with my plastic sign sticking in the
air. The whole room gasps collectively at the high amount of money,
and everybody is staring at me. I wish the floor would just open up
and swallow me down. I feel the heat rising in my cheeks, and just
like one is unable to look away from an accident scene, my eyes come
up to look at him. He’s staring at me as well, his eyes burning
into mine. What was I thinking, offering that much money? I saved
that for my future. Oh who am I kidding, this man *is* my future. At
least, I wish he were…
I suddenly become aware of
another set of eyes boring into mine. Slowly I turn my head away from
him, and realize it is blonde number three that has all her attention
riveted on me. I can only watch as she slowly raises her sign. Her
eyes never leaving mine, she announces: “25,000 Dollar.”
I gasp.
“Going once…, going twice…,
sold!” The auctioneer’s voice is barely registering in my
head. Blonde Renée-clone gives me a smug look, then turns
around, dazzles a smile at my Sailor – correction, my
ex-Sailor, and heads off towards the stage to claim her purchase.
I
can barely hold myself together after that. For outward appearances,
I stay through another three men on stage, then get the hell out of
there. On my way home, I stop at the grocery store to buy a pint of
Fossil Fuel, my favorite ice cream. It has chocolate fudge pieces in
the form of dinosaurs. If that evening wasn’t enough reason to
indulge in too much ice cream, then I don’t know what warrants
it. I probably blew my chances for good tonight. How will I ever be
able to face him again?
o o o o o
Almost one o’clock
in the morning finds me in front of her door. When I was ‘sold’,
I lost track of her, and then I was quickly whisked away to dinner by
Linda-Sue, with a hyphen, as I had been informed. We went to a
wonderful and romantic Italian restaurant that Linda-Sue recommended.
It was a surprisingly pleasant evening; Linda-Sue turned out to be an
interesting conversationalist, and her slight southern drawl was
endearing. In the back of my mind though, there was a constant rerun
of the evening’s events. I can’t get past the fact that
Mac had told me she might bid for the man of her dreams tonight, and
then she made a bid – for me. And a high one at that! I have to
find out what that was all about, no matter how late it is. I take a
deep breath, then knock at her door.
“Hey Mac,” I
greet her when the door opens, then strut past her into her apartment
as if it were the most normal thing in the world to come over for a
visit at one in the morning. The cockiness I display is really all
done in a desperate attempt to hide the wave of emotion washing over
me when I see her. She’s still wearing her dress, although it
is a bit wrinkled on one side now, as if she had been laying on it.
Her hair is messier, and there’s a tiny speck of what I presume
to be chocolate on her chin.
“Uh Harm, hi. How was your
evening with what’s her name?” She sounds confused, yet
masked by it I detect something else in her voice, a little
annoyance, maybe, or rather jealousy? Good, that’s sorta what
I’m hoping for.
“Linda-Sue,” I announce,
“Linda-Sue is her name, with a hyphen.” I grin at her and
lift my eyebrows. Not surprisingly, I get a glare in return.
“It
was a lovely evening, actually. We went for dinner, had a pleasant
conversation. She’s from the South, oh and I should also
mention, she’s filthy rich.” Still grinning, I look at
her. I can practically see the ire rising in her, how she’s
getting angry over why I am bothering her with my successes. I just
want to goad her a little bit, to get her a tad worked up so I might
stand a chance at extracting the truth behind her actions tonight.
Not too much though, I don’t want her to throw me out. It’s
time to turn the tables on her now. She’s still standing close
to the door, and I advance towards her, slowly, in measured steps.
“She’s also happily married.” I state. Her
head snaps up.
“She participates in this event every
year, by agreement with her husband. For the children, she says. She
also says it’s a nice way to make new friends.” I’m
really close to her now, and she backs away, until she can’t go
any further because her back is against the door. Perfect. I come
close again, until I’m right in front of her, and she has no
means to escape. I really hope she won’t want to,
either.
“*Just* friends.” I drive the point home.
She is staring up at me now, her chest heaving in a rapid rhythm. Her
proximity almost makes me forget everything around us, but I need to
ask.
“She was asking about you though,” I forge
on, hoping I’ll still be able to form somewhat coherent
sentences with her body so close to mine.
“About the
woman, who made a really high bid for only one man, then looked as
though she couldn’t believe what she had done…” I
bring my hands up and place them against the door, one on each side
of her head, as much to brace myself as to keep her close to me. I
feel like she is pulling me in; a mystic draw exuding from her that I
can no longer ignore, nor do I want to. Our faces are really close
together now, and I whisper:
“Why were you bidding for
me, Sarah?”
o o o o o
I have lost all ability to
think. I can feel his warm breath fanning across my face when he
speaks; I can feel the heat coming off his body; I’m
overwhelmed by his smell, clean and musky. His eyes have turned dark
and are boring into mine. Uh, I think he just asked me something. I’m
trying to shake my head clear from the sensations and answer as
neutral as I can.
“Uhm… I was trying to…drive
up the price for you…” I meant to sound sure, but it
comes out in a strangled whisper. I think I’m doomed.
“*You*
could have a date with me for free, you know,” he states
calmly, completely ignoring what I just said. Damn, when did he learn
to read me that well?
“You could have just asked,”
he continues in a whisper. He’s even closer now, his body
intimately pressed up against mine.
“Ask me, Sarah.”
He challenges me, daring me to go for it. I want to be annoyed at him
for putting me on the spot, but I realize at the same time that all
evening, he has made his advances, made his intentions known. By
touching me, by his compliments, by kissing me. Suddenly I don’t
even remember why I was fighting it in the first place…
“Harm,”
I whisper, “would you go out with me on a…. mphffffmm.”
The rest of my sentence is muffled by the searing kiss he’s
planting on my lips. He didn’t need to hear it all, merely
needed to know that I wanted it as well. His lips are on mine, and I
stop thinking. It’s time to feel. His lips are rubbing across
mine, his tongue outlining them, begging for entrance. I open my
mouth to him, and then there’s no holding back. Our tongues are
dueling madly; he’s discovering my mouth like nobody ever has
before. I feel like I’m drowning in him, desire is pooling in
my belly, my legs are weakening with the onslaught of sensations
washing over me. I want him so much I’m whimpering. The whole
evening has put me in a constant state of arousal that now finds its
overwhelming culmination.
I bring my arms around his neck,
holding on for dear life. His arms had somehow wandered to my waist,
but now I feel them sliding down, over my six and down my thighs,
until suddenly I’m picked up and find myself trapped fully
against the door on my back and him on my front. I’ve never
been so comfortable. I can’t help but wrap my legs around his
hips, and he moans. We continue kissing madly; I give him everything
I am. All my pent-up emotions that I have kept hidden for years are
going into this kiss. And I can read everything he’s never told
me in his kiss as well. We’re wild and demanding and desirous,
and it’s perfect.
I whimper when he suddenly pulls
away. His eyes are darkened by desire, and they are asking a silent
question. I don’t need to hear the words, I know them. And I
answer in the only way that I think is necessary now. Sometimes
actions do speak louder than words.
So I smile at him
seductively, and then I unknot his tie and unhurriedly pull it off
his neck…
THE END