Author: fananicfan
Subject: Part Two of Overcoming Obstacles - my October challenge story

If you need to refresh your memory, part one isn't posted with the October challenges yet, but it is on archive page two near the bottom.


Overcoming Obstacles, Part Two

FRIDAY NIGHT
BEDROOM
MAC'S APARTMENT
1730

MAC'S POV

'I'm so glad that I left the office thirty minutes early to get ready for my date with Harm tonight,' I think as I stand in front of the mirror, wearing potential outfit number three.

I can't believe that I'm having such trouble picking out something to wear. After all, this isn't my first date ever.

"That's true, but it's your first date with Harm," I say to the woman staring back at me from the mirror before deciding that this outfit isn't right either.

I'd decided that my first outfit, consisting of a pair of pants and top, was too casual. My second outfit's plunging v-neck was too revealing, and this outfit is too loose. I want him to remember that I'm a woman, but I don't want him to think that I'm trying to seduce him.

Now, I'm looking in the mirror at my fifth attempt at dressing myself, a recent purchase inspired by Chloe and her interest in the environment. The dress is part of a "green" line of clothing. The dress is made of bamboo.

The fabric is a shade of green, somewhere between mint and jade, which flows away from the bust, creating a flowing, flirty and fun element to the dress.

So far so good, I think as I continue to scrutinize the dress in my reflection.

The wide straps that crossover in the front before being hooked around my neck to form the halter top of the dress accents my bust. The snug fit across my breasts certainly shows that I'm a woman, but the width of the straps and the crossover style reveals no cleavage, so I don't feel exposed or feel like I'm being blatantly sexy.

The dress isn't dressy, but it isn't too casual either. It's cocktail length. Yes, I think it'll do nicely with my cream wrap and ... 'Oh god, do I have shoes that will go with this dress?'

Picking out my shoes for tonight went much faster. It took only three tries. I've just finished putting a woman's essential items into a clutch bag when I hear the knock on my door. He's here.

1823

I glance into the mirror one last time, hoping that I've picked the right dress before heading to my living room to answer the door.

One of my moist palms makes contact with the door knob while the other flips the deadbolt over.

I open the door, and a sight that causes a hitch in my breathing greets me. I swear that he's more handsome this evening than I've ever seen him. He's wearing a brown suit with a cream colored shirt and an emerald green tie. When I get the door fully open to allow him entry, the light from my apartment casts enough light that the gold threading in his tie sparkles.

"These are for you," he says in a deep voice.

I'd been focusing so much on the way he looked that I didn't see the flowers in his hand before he spoke.

He's holding out a mixed bouquet of wildflowers. I reach out to take the offered gift. "Please, come in. I want to put these in water before we go."

As he steps into my apartment, I turn to go to the kitchen to tend to my flowers.

After filling a vase with water and placing the flowers in it, I leave the kitchen, stopping at my dining table to put down the vase, and look towards Harm, who's hovering around the front door like he's never been in my apartment before tonight. I guess I'm not the only one who's a little nervous about our first date.

"I just need to get my wrap and clutch from the bedroom to be ready."

After I get a nod from him in acknowledgment, I head to the bedroom to retrieve the items.

Before exiting my bedroom, I take in a deep breath to calm my nerves. I can't believe that Harm is out there waiting to take me out on a date. If I weren't so nervous, I'd think that I was dreaming. However, when I've dreamed of our first date ... when I've dreamed about being with him in any way ...

The dream that I had two nights ago comes to mind, reminding me of one of the emotions that I feel when I dream of him, and nervous isn't it. I feel the heat in my cheeks as I remember the passionate way that we kissed in that dream. I have to take in another deep breath to recover from the memory of that kiss.

I exit my bedroom. "I'm ready. Are you?"

"What?" he says like I spoke to him in a foreign language.

"I'm ready to go if you are."

"Oh, yes, I'm ready. Let's go," he says and moves to open the door for our departure.

THE MUSIC ROOM - A DINNER AND DANCING CLUB
WASHINGTON, DC

HARM'S POV

In my sleep before last week, I'd dream of the day that I'd take Mac out on a date and what a wonderful time we'd have, but for the last week I haven't been having those pleasant dreams. No, for the last week I've been having what I've dubbed the "Murphy's Law" dreams.

It isn't the same dream each night, but the end result in each of them is the same. After various disasters throughout the evening, everything from a flat tire to her getting a phone call from Webb in the middle of dinner, I know by the end of the evening that there's never going to be an 'us'.

Back at her apartment her wording, 'I'm ready. Are you?' threw me because it reminded me of another dream that I'd once had - more of a day dream, actually. However, the outcome of that one is unknown to me. It certainly wasn't going my way up until it was time to leave the restaurant. It was the same words that she'd uttered earlier this evening that were the last ones that she'd uttered in my daydream and, as I'd left the restaurant that evening I'd had a new sense of hope that someday ... somehow ... she and I would be an 'us', but, tonight, her words just made me more nervous about our date.

As I'm following behind Mac, who's behind the hostess showing us to our table, I wonder if she's feeling any of the same sensations that I am about being on a date with me.

As we're being seated, I hazard a glance in her direction. She looks beautiful. I'll bet she was ready in fifteen minutes. I spent forty-five minutes picking out this suit. I might have taken longer, but I ran out of time. If I hadn't gone with this suit, I'd have been late to pick her up.

At least my palms stopped sweating when we reached the restaurant - no flat tire on the way here, so that calmed me down some.

MAC'S POV

The conversation during the car ride here was about the unseasonably warm weather and the fact that even the heavy winds weren't making the evening seem cool.

As we were being seated, I thought about how awkward being out with him felt. Not at all like the way I'd imagined this evening.

I'm looking over the top of my menu at him. What kind of conversation did I expect us to have tonight? Tonight isn't like any other first date. We've known each other for eight years. There isn't much left for us to 'get to know' about each other, unlike a normal first date with someone.

"Have you eaten here before?" I ask.

"No," Harm answers distractedly.

"No menu recommendations for me this evening, then?"

"No, not this evening," he says flatly, apparently more interested in the menu than conversation.

I look back down at my menu.

"I think I'll have the halibut," Harm says, or maybe announces would be more accurate.

When I look up at Harm, we make eye contact. There's something different about his eyes – the way he's looking at me tonight. "I was leaning towards the prime rib," I say breathlessly.

I'm saved from myself by the appearance of our waiter.

"Good evening, my name is Michael and I'll be your server this evening."

A few moments later, Michael has left us to retrieve our beverages, and the awkwardness that's been between us since we left my apartment has returned. I think I prefer the awkward conversation in the car to this silence, though.

I start to say something to break the silence when Michael reappears with our drinks.

"Were you going to start with an appetizer this evening?"

"I'd like to try the stuffed mushroom caps. Would that be okay with you or would you like something else?" Harm asks me.

His question catches me off guard. I didn't expect to be included in the decision. "Actually, I'm more of a desert person than an appetizer person, but if they appear on the table, I doubt that I'll let you eat them all by yourself."

"Mushroom caps it is then," Harm says to Michael.

"I'll be back in a few moments with them, sir," Michael says and is gone again.

I close my menu and reach for my glass. As I take a sip of my beverage, the uncomfortable way that I'm feeling makes me regret saying yes to this date.

As I lower my glass back to its place on the table, Harm's voice is deep and almost seductive when his question pulls me from my thoughts.

"It'll be a few minutes before the appetizer arrives. If you've made you dinner choice ... " he says, moving his eyes to my closed menu on the table. " ... while we wait, would you like to dance?" he asks as he waves towards the dance floor that's located several feet to the left of our table.

"That would be very nice," I answer, happy to have something to take the place of conversation.

He stands and extends his hand, offering it to me. I place my hand in his and stand.

He guides us to the dance floor.

Once we reach the dance floor, he turns and puts his other hand on my hip, and I step in closer to him.

He's looking into my eyes like he wants to say something, but he doesn't open his mouth to speak.

We're moving in measured steps like we've never danced with anyone before. When in fact, not only have we danced before, but we've danced with each other on more than one occasion. The space between us is more than respectable, and I wonder if it's because he wants to be able to see my face, my reaction to what he says, or if he's trying to maintain a 'dancing with your sister' distance with me.

As if he can read my thoughts, he finally speaks.

"I want to apologize for not saying it sooner, but you look beautiful tonight."

"Thank you. You're looking pretty good tonight yourself."

"Thank you," he says as his arm slips around my waist and he pulls me closer.

I guess I got my answer. He wanted to tell me that I was beautiful before pulling me in close.

I'm soon in his embrace and close enough to smell the aftershave or cologne that he's wearing, and our previous precise movements are replaced with more of what I'd call a romantic sway.

We began to dance in the middle of a song, and the next song begins and ends before we stop dancing.

We return to our table, and all my doubts about being here with him this evening are gone. The moment he took me into his arms, the awkwardness, the discomfort was gone. I was at home in his arms. I just hope that he feels the same way.

BACK AT THE TABLE

MAC'S POV

The awkward silence between us returned as we began to share the appetizer. So it seems that the first obstacle that we must overcome is less complicated than I'd thought it would be - we need to get the conversation flowing with the ease that it did last week.

Michael appears and serves us our salads, and I wait for him to leave once again before making another attempt at conversation.

"The mushroom caps were quite good, don't you think?" I say as I plunge my fork into my salad plate.

"They were pretty good."

A few bites into my salad, I attempt conversation again.

"Is Mattie with her dad again this weekend?"

"Yeah."

His answer is only one word, but the tone of it is sorrowful, and I regret bringing Mattie up as a topic of conversation. The silence returns as we continue to eat our salads.

I eat in silence, fearing that if I say anything, it will make things worse instead of better. My heart constricts at the thought that tonight might very well be my first and last date with Harm and that the time for an "us" has passed.

HARM'S POV

Mac hasn't said a word since we started our salads. Since Michael should be appearing in a few minutes to ask us about desert, I know that I should say something. I don't know what my problem is with talking to her tonight. This is Mac ... just talk to her. If you don't start talking to her soon, when she gets back to her apartment, she's going to write in her diary that she just had the worst date of her life.

"Mac, do you keep a diary?" Where did that come from? Has calling this a "date" instead of "dinner with Mac" really caused my brain to turn to mush? "That's a very personal question. I shouldn't have asked," I hastily add apologetically.

"No, I don't. Do you?" she answers, apparently comfortable with answering such a personal question.

"No, Mattie does though."

"Were you thinking about her?"

"Not really ... " I begin, but Michael's arrival gets me off the hook. I've never been so glad to see a waiter. I didn't know how I was going to explain what I was thinking without sounding like I've already given up on us ever having a second date.

I look from Michael to Mac, "Unless you object, I thought we could just sit here and let our dinner settle for a few minutes ... maybe dance again before we have desert."

"I have no objections," she quietly replies.

"Then, I'll check with you again in a little bit," Michael says before disappearing again.

We sit at our table in silence through two songs before it dawns on me that the dance floor is where I've felt the most comfortable with her tonight, so I decide to ask her to dance again.

"Would you like to dance again now?"

"Yes," she replies softly.

I stand and extend my hand to her, and she takes it - much the way she did earlier.

We reach the dance floor and, not wanting to assume that it's okay to hold her too close, I slip my arm around her waist, trying to gauge an appropriate distance between us. I don't want her to feel like I think of her as my sister, but I also don't want to pull her too close, too soon. This is, after all, our first date.

AT MAC'S APARTMENT DOOR

MAC'S POV

The evening didn't get off to a good start, and there was more than one or two awkward moments during the evening, but, in his arms on the dance floor, I felt like we were the only people there. I think he might have felt the same because, when we went back to the dance floor, we didn't stop dancing until the band stopped playing for a break.

When we returned to our table, I ordered desert, not because I was hungry, but because I didn't want our date to end.

As I ate my desert, I thought of how odd it was that I'd gone from wishing that I'd never had said yes to this date to not wanting it to end during the course of the evening. Now that I have my key in the door, I'm sad that we're about to say good night.

"You want to come in for a cup of coffee or tea?" I ask.

"I don't think so, not tonight," he answers softly.

"You know, if you weren't hoping that I'd ask you to come in, you didn't need to walk me to my door," I say as I push my door open.

"I know, you're a Marine ... but you're also a very attractive woman, and I wanted to make sure that you got home safe and sound."

"Thank you," I say to him before kissing him on the cheek.

"Good night," he says softly before turning to leave.

"Harm," I stammer out, causing him to turn back around.

"Yeah," he says to acknowledge that I've gotten his attention.

"Are you sure that you don't want to come in for a few minutes? It's still early. We could talk."

HARM'S POV

Her brown eyes are casting their spell on me as she makes a second attempt to get me to come inside her apartment, so instead of leaving, I nod and step towards her and the open door.

"Make yourself comfortable and give some thought to whether you'd like something to drink. I'll be back in a minute."

I watch her walk towards her bedroom until she disappears into the room. I take a seat on her couch, wondering why I let her talk me into coming in to talk. I know why ... because, even with the uncomfortable moments, I enjoyed her company and, when we were dancing ... there were no obstacles. We were in sync, and it felt good to have her in my arms.

"Did you want something to drink?" she asks, pulling me from my thoughts of her in my arms.

I look up to see that she left her clutch, wrap and her shoes in her bedroom.

"No thanks. I'm fine." I figure that this talk that she wants to have is the 'we should stay friends talk' so, though I don't want to hear it, I'm eager to get it over with so that I can go home and lick my wounds. "What did you want to talk about?" I ask as she sits down on the couch next to me, but not too close.

"At first, I thought that calling tonight a 'date' had thrown us off, but, as the evening progressed, I had to wonder if it was more than the label."

Here it comes. Brace yourself, Rabb.

"But it isn't the word date as much as it's the definition of the word that I feel made for some awkward moments tonight."

What in the hell does that mean? Is my thought, but I don't have to ask because she's still talking.

"I mean, by definition, a date is the process of two people going out to get to know each other. If this had been a first date for you or me with anyone except each other, your date would've found out that you're practically a vegetarian and mine would've found out that I'm not. The second date might include trying to decide on a movie. They'd find out that you don't mind a movie with subtitles and that I hate the idea of having to read my movie. I read books. I want to watch a movie. The third date would reveal something else new and, if we continued to date, then the revelations would become more personal like my date finding out that I'm an alcoholic or your date finding out that you have Mattie."

She's nervous and is rambling. So far what she's said doesn't sound like it's going to be the 'let's forget about us dating' kiss-off that I was expecting, so I keep listening to her. I guess I'm guilty of being a hopeless optimist.

She takes in a deep breath. "What I'm trying to say is that we know all the stuff that you learn about each other through dating. There's no point in us dating."

Okay, that was the kiss-off. She just wrapped it up too nicely for me to see it coming.

"I understand. No more dating. I've got it ... no problem. Unless there was something else that you wanted to say, I think I'll head home now," I say before standing to leave her place for mine. I don't have anything to say. I need to get out of here. "Good night," I say as I make short work of the floor between me and the door.

I hear her say, "Good night," before I close the door behind myself.

MAC'S POV

I'd cry, but my system is in shock. What just happened?

I was explaining that the word date or dating doesn't cover what there is between us. I think that we should call it something else or don't label it at all. Just go out and let things happen as they happen, no hurry, no pressure, but forward motion towards whatever the future holds for us. So, why did he leave in such a hurry?

IN HARM'S CAR

HARM'S POV

'What in the hell just happened?' I think as I pull away from the curb in front of her apartment building.

I know that the evening didn't go as smoothly as I would've liked, but it wasn't that bad. It was at least an okay date, and an okay date should've given me a shot at a second date before she wrote me - us - off.

We shouldn't date because we know each other. That's the dumbest thing that I've ever heard. I realize that you date to get to know each other, but when you get to know each other well enough, she becomes your girlfriend, and you work on a relationship.

That's what I should have said. I let her say never and walked away. I'm not doing it again. Right or wrong, I'm fighting her this time.

MAC'S APARTMENT

HARM'S POV

I knock on her door - pound really, once, twice before she opens the door.

"Harm, what is it?"

"I left because I didn't want to push you, but I decided that you might misinterpret my silence as not standing up or fighting for you, and that's just not the case at all."

MAC'S POV

"I left because I didn't want to push you, but I decided that you might misinterpret my silence as not standing up or fighting for you, and that's just not the case at all," he says with a tight jaw, but he doesn't seem angry, just determined as he walks past me into my apartment.

'This is an interesting turn of events,' I think as I close the door. I turn to see that he's now standing in front of my sofa.

"Would you like to sit down?" I ask as I make my way over to him.

"I didn't come here to sit. I came back here to get something off my chest."

"Sounds serious."

"It is. In fact, it's probably the most important thing that I've ever said."

He certainly has my attention now. I take in a deep breath, bracing myself for what I fear he might be here to say. "Go ahead."

"Mac, I didn't say anything earlier because I didn't want you to think that I was pushing you into something that you weren't ready for, but, on my way home, I thought you might take my silence as me not being interested in you enough to fight for you. So, I decided that I needed to come back here to tell you that not dating because we know each other does make sense to me, but that's no reason for us not to see each other again. We just need to look at our going out differently. We're past basic dating. We're at the girlfriend/boyfriend level and well on our way to being involved in a relationship. It may not be the way it should be, but it's the way it is for us. I'll make you a deal. If you go out with me again and you still hate it, I'll drop it and never bring it up again. What do you say?"

"I'd say that I now believe that you understand what I was trying to tell you earlier. I guess one of the obstacles that we'd better overcome quickly is learning how to talk to each other as boyfriend and girlfriend."

"That's what you were trying to say earlier? That we need to skip the basics of dating? But I thought you were -"

"Dumping you? I was just ... it doesn't matter now. Kiss me!"

"What?"

"I think that my boyfriend should kiss me good night when he drops me off after we've had dinner, don't you?"

His jaw relaxes and the corners of his mouth turn up into a warm smile. "Absolutely," he says a fraction of a second before his lips touch mine.


THE END

Well, how was the sequel? Worth the wait?