Author: manette
Subject: Return of Service- HBX challenge from November 2006 RATED: R

Title: Return of Service
Author: manette
Rating:Ooh—probably R—this is more explicit than what I normally write.
It all belongs to the Don

November HBX challenge.

AN: I found this on my computer and I don’t remember why I never posted it. Maybe because I only use the lines--sort of. November was sooo long ago that I’ve no clue. It's early season five- just when Harm returns from flying.

Lately real life has been making it difficult to read or write fan fiction, so I know there are some wonderful ones out there waiting for me to catch up on. I can’t wait! I can always use a good Harm and Mac fix. Thanks to Cece for these challenges—they keep our dreams alive!

Mac: Why are you staring at me?
Harm: You're out of uniform. Right?
Mac: I'm going out for dinner with Mic. [laughs].
You'd think you'd never seen me in a dress before.

Return of Service


I was back –back in DC. And by Monday morning I’d be back at JAG, too. My return to flying was a closed chapter now, and while some might see it as a misguided flight of fancy, I didn’t agree. It had restored me—given me back a part of myself that had been lost since my ramp strike, and whatever the cost to my career it had been worth it.

I looked around my empty lifeless apartment and thought about the long weekend that stretched ahead. If I was smart, I’d stay home and catch up on some sleep, but I felt too jittery to stay in. Besides, it was Friday night and outside my window the lights of the city tempted me to come out and play. I could head over to McMurphy’s and have a few beers to take the edge off. Or—I could call Mac and tell her I was home.

That’s what I wanted to do. I’d wanted to call her as soon as I made the decision to come back to JAG. As soon as I’d finished wrapping my head around the inevitability of it, she was the first person I wanted to share the news with, but I hadn’t emailed, hadn’t called, hadn’t even allowed myself to think about all the things I needed to say.

I didn’t really know what kind of reaction to expect, but I hoped she’d be happy. I knew she’d felt like I’d discarded our partnership when I left, traded it in for a lost cause. But I also hoped there was a chance she understood why I had to go.

I could wait until Monday morning and surprise her at the office, except I didn’t really want to face her with all of our co-workers around. But being Friday night there was a good chance she already had plans. I knew her life hadn’t come to a screeching halt since I’d been away. And I’d bet a million bucks that Brumby hadn’t stopped trying to worm his way into her good graces. He was probably still sniffing around her like the hound dog he was. The idea of Mac with Mic always rubbed me the wrong way, and I’d never really let myself think about why. Now that I’d come home, I was going to have to come to terms with a lot of things, and my feelings about Mac were at the top of that list. I picked up the phone and dialed her number before I could change my mind.

She picked up on the third ring and sounded out of breath. “McKenzie.”

I took a moment to savor the sound of her voice. “Sarah McKenzie? The Sarah McKenzie?”

Dead silence greeted my teasing. Finally, I tried again. “Mac? Did I catch you at a bad time?”

Tentatively she ventured, “Harm? Is that you?” Well, at least she still recognized my voice.

“Yeah, it’s me.” I was a fount of sparkling conversation.

“Oh!” Now she sounded excited. “What a nice surprise.” That was more like the reaction I’d been hoping for. “What’s wrong?”

“Does something have to be wrong for me to call?” I sat down on a barstool and ran a finger over the grout between two tiles.

“No, but you haven’t called since you left.”

“I’ve emailed you a few times.”

“A few times,” she agreed. “So, what rates a phone call now?”

“I’ve got some news, and I wanted to share it with you.”

“Good news?”

“I’d rather not tell you on the phone, Mac.”

That stopped her. “Where are you calling from, Harm?”

“My old apartment.”

“You’re here? In Washington? Why didn’t you say so?”

My nervousness evaporated at her enthusiasm and I plunged ahead. “So, are you busy tonight?” Nothing ventured, and all that.

She hesitated, but only for a second. “My plans just changed. If you’re in town, I’m all yours.”

I liked the sound of that, but I wondered what plans had to be changed, and I bristled unreasonably at the idea that Mic or some other new boyfriend was involved. “Great. Let me take you out to eat then. I’ll pick you up in an hour. Is that okay?”

“Let’s make it forty five minutes. I’m starving.”

I hung up and knew I had a goofy grin on my face. She sounded happy, like she might be smiling at the idea of bumming a meal off me, and suddenly the weekend held all sorts of promise. I jumped in the shower, shaved and was out the door in fifteen minutes. The drive over to her apartment was automatic and the closer I got, the more I felt like my old self again. Coming home, I’d felt disconnected—not belonging on the ship anymore, and no longer feeling like part of JAG, either. But now I felt as if I was heading in the right direction. If I was going to fit back into my old life, I knew I had to fit back into Mac’s life, as well. I only hoped she’d saved a place for me.

I rang her doorbell and shifted restlessly while I waited. My insides felt heavy and weighted down, like someone had dug out my guts and replaced them all with an iron anvil. I’d just forced myself to take a deep breath, when Mac opened the door. I let it out in one big whoosh. She was standing there wearing a frilly aqua dress that fluttered around her bare arms and long legs while it still managed to cling to every one of her female parts in a disturbing manner. My heart was still intact because it started hammering at the sight of her.

“Harm—” She started to smile but I must have looked as dumbstruck as I felt, so instead she smoothed a hand over her skirt self-consciously and asked, “Are you okay? Why are you staring at me? I haven’t changed that much since you’ve been gone, have I?”

I shook my head and said, “It’s just that you’re out of uniform. I mean, you’re wearing a dress.” I stumbled on trying to explain myself, but only came up with, “It’s pretty.” Once again I’d proven to be a conversational wizard. I must have been at sea longer than I thought.

The whole time I’d been away I’d carried a picture of her in my head, and most of the time it was of Mac, the Marine—my colleague, my partner, a worthy adversary. Don’t get me wrong. I knew she was a beautiful woman. I’d have to be dead not to notice that.

But I never let myself dwell on how she looked when a smile lit up her face, invaded those brown eyes and danced over everything in her path. How just watching her move across a room could make my blood thicken. Or her skin—how soft it would be if I could touch her. And now, tonight, everything I’d walked away from was staring me in the face, framed by her open doorway.

She seemed amused by my bumbling. “You’d think you’d never seen me in a dress before.”

My heart had slowed to a reasonable rhythm, and I found my smile buried under a ton of newfound anticipation. “You look great.”

She held out her arms and I stepped into them squeezing her tightly, inhaling the familiar mix of perfume and woman that I suddenly realized I could recognize with my eyes closed. My hands slid over the silky material of her dress, and I caught myself before the hug could get too intimate. I was alarmed to realize how much I didn’t want to let her go. So, I dropped my hands and jammed them in my pockets. She kept her hands on my shoulders and said, “I’ve missed you, Harm.”

I couldn’t help it. My hands came out of my pockets and went back around her waist. “I’ve missed you, too, Mac.”

She pulled away and walked toward the sofa. “So, how long do you get to stay?”

I followed. “So I guess Admiral Chegwidden didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

We sat down side by side, and I gave her the news. “I’m not stationed on the Patrick Henry anymore. I’m coming back to JAG.”

“You’re coming back?” She looked shocked and moved away, putting a little distance between us.

Her reaction threw me off balance again, so I started rambling on about how I was older than all the other pilots and how I’d run out of sky and how I didn’t know how much I’d miss the law until I was away from it—all the philosophical BS that put a cheerful spin on this most recent curve in my career path.

She picked up a throw pillow and fiddled with a loose thread. She wouldn’t meet my eye when she said, “But you already knew most of that before you left.”

I shrugged. “My head understood it, but I’m stubborn. I guess I have to learn things the hard way. But that doesn’t mean I was wrong to go back to flying, Mac.”

Her eyes flew up to meet mine. “No, you weren’t wrong. I knew it was something you had to do.”

“Did you?” I reached out, wanting to take her hand in mine, but lost my nerve and let my hand fall back to my lap. “I always felt like I was letting you down.”

She studied the pillow some more while answering my question with one of her own. “You’re really back?”

“Starting Monday morning.”

She put the pillow aside. “That changes things.”

“Is that good or bad?” I was still having trouble judging her mood.

“Oh, it’s good.” She paused as if she was still undecided about something, but then she grinned and jumped from the sofa. “We need to celebrate. Right? Aren’t you supposed to be taking me out to eat?”

Feeling back on familiar ground, I stood up and let her pull me toward the front door. “Let’s pick someplace crowded. It’s not everyday I get to go out with such a good looking woman.”

She stopped and turned to face me. “Are you flirting with me, Harmon Rabb?”

I put my hands up in mock apology. “Sorry, Mac, it must be the ‘sailor on leave’ mentality.”

“Well hey, sailor,” she reached over and played with a button on my shirt. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” Then she winked before sailing out the door.

I stood rooted in place while my heart galloped after her. Then I followed them both. The night was young, and apparently, so were we.

We ate dinner at a new Italian place that opened while I was away. The room was dark, and busy, noisy, yet intimate. Crowded into a round booth, we had to lean close to hear each other, but once we started talking the rest of the crowd seemed to disappear. I settled into the seat, letting the red leather take my weight, letting the feeling of being home sink into my bones while Mac filled me in on things at JAG. I entertained her with a few of my flying stories, but we managed to avoid touching on anything too personal until finally after our waiter brought our food, my curiosity got the best of me. I took a bite of manicotti. “So, Mac, are you seeing anyone these days?”

“I’ve gone out on a few dates lately. No one special.” She tore a piece of bread in half. “How about you? Does Jordan know you’re home?”

While I’d been gone I’d hardly missed my old girlfriend. I couldn’t say the same about the woman sitting across from me. If I’d had any lingering doubts about the wisdom of our breakup I’d come to terms with them months ago. “I haven’t talked to Jordan since I left, but we were talking about you. This person you’ve gone out with lately – Is it Brumby?”

She hesitated, tucked her hair behind her ear and sounded mildly exasperated when she said, “I’ve seen Mic a few times outside of work, usually when I beat him in court he takes me to dinner. But we’re not dating if that’s what you’re asking.”

I rubbed my palm across the smooth wood of the table, feeling my way carefully through this bumpy conversation. “If it was up to him, I bet you would be.”

She shrugged not giving much away. “He’s persistent. I can’t argue with that.”

“Did you have plans with him tonight? Is that why you’re all dressed up?”

“I was going to have dinner with Mic. I got a better offer.” Her fingertips brushed across the back of my hand. “Happy now?”

Her simple touch left a vapor trail of sensation that flew immediately to my groin. Another time I might have felt smug. Tonight I just felt turned on. “He’s not going to like it when he finds out he got dumped so you could spend time with me.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“You bet. First thing Monday morning.” I teased her, trying to regain control of the situation.

“You’re hopeless.” She was laughing now. “I told you, we’re not dating.”

“So, tell me, Mac. A woman like you. Why isn’t there anyone special?”

She twirled her fork aimlessly in her pasta before setting it down and pinning me with a direct stare. “Do I have to spell it out, Harm? When you left JAG you broke my heart.”

Her words landed on me like fists, bruising and punishing. I’m not a dumb man, and I’d known from the moment we laid eyes on each other that Mac and I shared a kind of chemistry that had to be handled carefully. We worked together. We traveled together. I’d always known we could make beautiful music together.

But at what cost? My heart had broken trying to answer that question, too.

Her eyes were shiny and wide with the knowledge of what she’d revealed, and she picked up her fork and waged war on an innocent meatball while I sat staggered like a bull taken down by a sledge hammer hit to the head.

I reached for her. I erased the space between our bodies as if we’d been separated at birth. I gathered her so close and so fast that her fork was poking me in the chest and her meatball was flattened between us like a greasy pancake. I wanted to scold her. We don’t do things this way, not the two of us. We don’t blurt out our feelings in such clear, uncomplicated ways. But I kissed her instead. I tackled her mouth, dragged my hands through her hair, and held on while hot streaks of hope and happiness ping ponged around my brain.

She dropped the fork and wrapped her arms around my neck. Her lips softened, opened under mine like secrets laid bare. I couldn’t breath. I breathed her name. “Mac.” I couldn’t get close enough. Her heart raced next to mine. I couldn’t stop touching her. Under my hands her skin trembled peachy and ripe.

She tasted like garlic and longing, and tomato sauce and incoherent words of love. And we were in the middle of a restaurant. Reality swam to the surface long enough for me to mutter, “Let’s get out of here.” I threw money on the table, and we bolted from the booth.

“Your place,” she declared firmly before she wrapped her arms around my waist. The night air was chilly, and a brisk breeze gave us another reason to hurry to the car. We stopped at a red light, and I cupped her face in my hand and resisted the urge to pull her into my lap. She looked so trusting, so sure that we were doing the right thing. I only knew that I didn’t know how to turn back.

When we got to my apartment, she walked around like she was getting reacquainted with an old friend. She ran her hand down the length of the kitchen bar, wandered over and straightened a picture on my book shelf, and ended up staring out the front window. “I didn’t know if I’d ever be here again.”

I stood with my hands in my pockets, watching her. “I would have come home sometime, Mac.”

“But maybe not to me.” She sounded resigned, a little lost, a lot lonely.

I went to her then and wrapped my arms around her from behind. “I’m home, Mac. Right now. This minute. With you, I’m home.”

She leaned her head back against my chest. “Do me a favor, Harm.”

“If I can.” I would have promised her the moon, but Mac wasn’t the moon-asking kind, and I had no idea if I could give her what she wanted instead.

She turned in my arms and looked up at me with melting eyes. “I want you to make love to me in this apartment, in that bed and when I wake up in the morning I want to be wrapped in your arms while the birds chirp and the sun rises. I want to lounge around in one of your old shirts, and read the funny papers, and feed each other scrambled eggs and toast and make love on top of the crumbs and the sports pages, and then I want to do it all over again. We have until Monday morning before the real world gets to have an opinion on whether this is right or wrong so can you do that for me? Whatever has to happen Monday morning, can we not think about it until then?”

I wanted what she wanted. Down to every detail. That’s what I wanted. Mac in my bed, Mac buttoned up in one of my shirts, Mac unbuttoned and naked underneath me while we made love. I picked her up and carried her up the step to the bedroom.

“I can do that,” I promised as I stood her by the bed. I had until Monday morning to convince her that this could be a beginning for us, not merely a stolen moment wedged into a corner of our lives.

I found the zipper on her dress and the silky aqua material slid down her body like rain water on a window pane and lay in a puddle at her feet. She stepped out of it wearing nothing but a light pink bra, pink panties and the turquoise high heels she rode in on. She was so beautiful, so hot, and so close. I wanted to twist and shout with desire, howl at the moon, cry like a baby. I surged toward her, but she eluded my touch, smiling, teasing me as she bent at the waist and picked up her dress and threw it on a chair.

And that smile.

She knew what she was doing to me. I reached for her again and this time she let me catch her, but only because she had designs on my shirt. “You’re overdressed, Harm.” Her fingers opened me up while her tongue baptized each newly exposed inch of my chest. Her breath was warm, moist—a breeze against my skin. Goosebumps marched across my stomach and my muscles jerked and contracted as she moved lower.

My shirt hit the floor and I stood bare-chested, exposed to her gaze. Her palms glided across my shoulders and down my arms. She looked entranced as she studied the way her small hands looked against my body. I only knew they belonged there, and knowing that broke me like nothing else could.

My arms captured her, swooping her up and carrying her to the bed. I needed her mouth on mine more than I needed air. I had to taste her need for me, lick it from her skin and let it glide down my throat. Her lips were wet and hungry. Her voice was gray with want, and the way she said my name let me know I was everything she wanted.

I unhooked her bra and celebrated some ancient pagan ceremony in the process. Her breasts were full, high, amazing feats of womanly nature filling my hands, my mouth, and my loins with lust that dug into me like shovels hitting hard ground. I slid her panties down her long, long legs wondering where this could end, hoping it never ended, hoping I could stand long enough to get my pants off. I left her high heels on in case she needed to prance across the room while I watched, but by the time my boxers hit the floor, I’d decided she wasn’t getting out of my bed anytime this century.

I’d had plenty of sex in my life. I’d probably even made love a few times.

But this.

I slid into her body watching her eyes darken as she took me inside. I trembled wanting to pound myself between her open thighs. I felt protected, cradled by her body, skin to skin, heart next to heart. Her breath mingled with mine. Her dark eyes almost moaning with desire, lighting up with love and something else—something old and wise.

I lost myself in the moment before I came—in the grasping, reaching moment before the planet sped up and hurled me out into space, I lost my moorings and floated unbound somewhere between here and there. Her kisses revived me, made me of this earth again, and I panted my release against her breast like a man kissing dry land after surviving a ship wreck.

She didn’t seem to mind my need to squeeze her, keep her close while my spent body recovered. Her fingers combed absently through my hair, and I opened one eye and tried to focus on her face. I was pleased to see that she looked as wrecked as I felt. My inflated male ego and I boosted ourselves up on one elbow. “You okay?”

Without opening her eyes she smiled a fat-contented-cat smile that made me want to purr. “I’ll never be the same,” she said, her voice thick with sex, sweat and bliss.

My ego patted me on the back and before I could stop myself I blurted it out. “I love you, Mac.” I hadn’t meant to say it just yet. Not while everything was still tentative and new.

I waited—afraid it was too much, too soon. Her fingers stopped stroking my hair and grabbed a handful instead. She used her hold on my hair to jerk my face down to hers and gave me a kiss that made all the others we’d shared up until now seem like grandma kisses. She rolled on top devouring my lips, nipping at my nose, fingertips scaling the heights of my cheekbones, palms testing the stubble on my chin as if she wanted to make sure all the parts were still there. “I love you, too, Harm.” She said it fiercely, like someone was lurking nearby, ready to dispute her claim.

Since she was kissing me again I couldn’t have spoken even if I wanted to. My heart exploded at her words, filled me up with scattered pieces of myself that clogged my throat and watered behind my eyes. And then she slowed things down, like the slow crawl of molasses on a cold day, pressing her mouth to mine, using her tongue in a soft driving way, sliding her body parts against mine in languorous, bold patterns that left no doubt of her intentions. What could I do but play along to make her happy?

The rest of the weekend followed the script she’d imagined pretty closely. Except we made love in places that didn’t involve the bed. And ate things that didn’t involve food. And she did prance across the bedroom in nothing but her high heels just for me, just once, since I asked nicely.

Sunday night came too soon, and we’d moved to the couch just for a change of pace. Our legs were mixed up in some combination of long and smooth and longer and hairier that felt like the key to eternal contentment. I’d never been one to snuggle, but then again I’d never been with Mac before.

“I should go home,” she whispered into my collarbone. Her cheek was nestled into the hollow of my shoulder and her hair tickled my chin.

“Bad idea. That would involve clothes and cars and getting off this couch.” I stretched lazily like the king of all I surveyed.

“We have to go to work tomorrow. You have to go to work tomorrow. Everyone will be so happy to see you.” She patted me on the chest before pushing away. When I didn’t let her get up she said again, “I should go home so you can get ready for your big day.”

“Hey, Mac, Friday night was my big day. Saturday was right up there along side it and today was shaping up nicely until you started making noises about leaving. Monday morning is just the day I go back to work. Let’s not rush it”

“Do you have an extra uniform I could wear then? I don’t think the Admiral will be too happy if I show up in this old football jersey of yours.”

I ran my hand over the soft worn cotton admiring the way Mac filled it out. “You have a point. Why don’t I grab my things, and we’ll spend the night at your place tonight.”

“You don’t have to do that, Harm.”

Tension coiled in my stomach at the offhand way she said it. “Tired of me already?”

“You know better than that.” She sat up pulling the jersey down over her thighs, trying to look prim despite her bare legs, mussed hair and lips that were bruised from too much kissing.

“So, how do you see things playing out tomorrow?” I needed to get an idea of what was going on inside her head.

“You’ll show up for the staff meeting. The Admiral will act all gruff like he doesn’t really care that you’re back even though he’s thrilled, Bud will try not to pee himself, Mic will swagger around like he’s not threatened by your return even though he is, and all the women will swoon.”

I smiled at her summation. “What about you?”

“I’ll swoon too, and then we’ll go back to working together, however the Admiral assigns us.”

“Business as usual.”

She nodded. “Business as usual.”

“You forgot one part.”

“I did?”

“You forgot the part where I go into the Admiral’s office first thing in the morning, and say, ‘Reporting for duty, sir, and there’s one thing you should be aware of.’ And he’ll say, ‘What’s that, Rabb?’ And I’ll say, ‘Sir, you should know that I’m involved with Colonel McKenzie.’ ‘Involved’—I think he’ll growl at this part—‘Involved how?’ ‘Well, sir, romantically involved, sir. I love her and she loves me, and while I’m sure we can keep it out of the office for now, you should know that I plan to ask her to marry me just as soon as I think she’ll say yes. So, I just thought you’d appreciate a head’s up, sir.’”

She stared at me, mouth open. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would. Unless you’ve changed your mind about the part where you said you love me. And I know that we haven’t talked about marriage. Hell, we haven’t even talked about dating, but we know each other as well as two people can. I’m going to ask you to marry me, sooner rather than later, because being with you is the only part of this deal that’s not negotiable. Unless you’ve changed your mind.” I ran out of words, winding down and suddenly feeling like I might have made a fool of myself.

“So, to hell with your career?” Her voice slid from dismay to wonder without missing a beat.

“It’s not an either or situation, Mac. But I’ve put my career first for a long time. I’m willing, if you are, to put being happy first and let our careers take care of themselves.”

She looked like she was wrestling with herself, like the option of being happy was something that always danced just out of reach where she was concerned.

I grabbed her hand. “I think we’ve got a better shot at making this work if we tell A.J. the truth. He’ll go to bat for us if he can. Besides, this is entirely his fault. He had to know when he brought you in on that first assignment that you’d fall in love with me. He can’t be surprised that you’re ready to admit it now.”

I’d finally made her smile. “No, he can’t be surprised. I think he’s known how I feel about you at least since Russia.”

I grin getting momentarily sidetracked by her admission. Then it's back to business. “I love you, Mac. Say yes.”

“To what?”

“To all of it. To us. And we’ll figure it out as we go along. But I’m warning you now, Mac. I want it all. The house, the kids, the dog, the cat, the canary, maybe a goldfish—”

She kissed me just to shut me up, and I felt her answer before I heard the word. “Yes—yes, to I love you. Yes to all of it, but on one condition. I want to be there when you tell A.J.”

“Only if I can be there when you tell Mic.”

“Harm, there’s no reason to tell Mic.”

“Let’s tell him anyway.”

“You’re terrible.”

I kissed her until she changed her mind. After all these years I’d finally found a way around the woman.

The End