No Regrets
Author: Tante Kiki
Rating: PG
Classification: not quite fluff, not quite serious
Disclaimer: Don’t own, no money, just playing.
Summary: I liked this prompt, but I’m not at all sure that this piece captures its flavor.

Prompt: ?


What counts in making a happy marriage is not so much how compatible you are, but how you deal with incompatibility. ~George Levinger

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They had been partners, adversaries, friends. Their names were intertwined, almost as if it were only one name, HarmandMac, the CommanderandtheColonel. They knew each other so well, yet there were so many things they didn’t know at all, at least not for certain.

They were both lawyers, skilled in courtroom oratory, but each unable to make a persuasive case to the other, at times unable to communicate at all. Only on occasion did they really listen to one another.

They were both career military and willing to risk their own lives in the name of duty and even more willing to take risks (well, physical risks) for each other. She took a taxi to a war zone in Chechnya; he resigned his commission to look for a tortured needle in a Paraguayan haystack. But neither was brave enough to risk their own heart or the friendship each treasured.

At times the support they had for one another seemed boundless. She rode in a stolen MIG and harbored him when he was a fugitive from the brig. He defended her for a murder she didn’t deny and carried her through the Appalachian wilderness while evading murderous poachers. At other times one might have thought them only colleagues or casual acquaintances for the little care they took with one another.

Duty seemed to establish clear rules for their relationship but chemical reactions are bound by other laws and the conflict between the two offered only an uncomfortable standoff without either side establishing a permanent position of final authority.

The constant struggle between the rules of man and the laws of nature took its toll on their relationship. Their bond was tested in unimaginable ways and they developed habits of interaction in order to survive. Each had inner issues of abandonment, understood to some extent, but as the song says, “the wounds that never heal are the easiest to hide”.*

They learned to respect and grew to love but the patterns of defense to avoid “getting too close” became firmly entrenched. The best defense being a good offense, they knew which buttons to push, which words would keep the other just out of reach.

Was it fate that brought them so tantalizingly close together for so long yet kept them essentially apart? Did fickle fate take pity on them after nine years of push and pull? Or did they each finally make a choice to be together and to face the consequences?

Is it possible to start a new life together with so many doubts, not doubts of love, but doubts nonetheless?

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“I don’t know why we act like that
You hurt me I only hurt you back
I can’t believe how carelessly we say those things
That put our love in danger

You wouldn’t say that to a stranger
We hurt the ones we love
When we say those words in anger
Do we ever make it up
We say what we don’t mean
And then we say we’re sorry later
But you wouldn’t say that to a stranger”**

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They had been married for two months.

She loved him. He loved her. You need love as a prerequisite for a marriage, of that she was sure, but was love enough? If it wasn’t, what was the more?

Never. As in, ‘it’s never going to work between us’.

Always. As in, ‘you have someone who will always love you’.

Eternity. As in, ‘is that how long we’re going to wait’.

She felt as if she were playing a warped game of Rock Paper Scissors, though the analogy wasn’t quite accurate. Each of these weapons seemed able to overpower the other two. The question was, was it a game with their past or a game with their present.

She felt sure that compromise would be involved in marriage, but she didn’t think it should feel like surrender. The fight had been so terrible and its ferocity had taken her by surprise. She knew a marriage between two such strong personalities would have its moments, but it wouldn’t survive these kinds of struggles. They wouldn’t survive. They had to find another way. She believed that he would agree with that, if nothing else.

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“Last night there was over in the air
Today it’s gone just like it was never there
I don’t know where those hateful words come from
It goes against our nature”**

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He came back from a run, showered and joined her on the couch, where she seemed to be waiting for him. They needed an alternative to the earlier nastiness and they needed it soon.

“Are we ready to talk?” Since he had been the one to retreat, he thought he should open the discussion.

“I think we have to be, don’t you?” She turned to face him.

“You seem to think that this is more than a bump in the road.”

She offered an easy answer initially. “Maybe we were due. We have been on our honeymoon.”

“And what a honeymoon,” he said as took her hand and began to caress the top gently with his thumb, which was a tactic that had worked in his favor several times already during their brief marriage.

“Don’t try to distract me.” She said it sharply but she made no move to pull her hand away.

“I thought you liked my distractions?” he offered with at least half of a sly smile.

“That’s not the point and you know it.” And now she did pull her hand away and attempted to regain some of her equilibrium. His proximity was still problematic, but without skin to skin contact she thought she had a fighting chance.

“I didn’t think it was.” His reply was a trifle sheepish.

“Maybe there are deeper issues. We certainly didn’t have a traditional courtship. Maybe we shouldn’t have been so blasé about the pre-marital counseling sessions.”

“You’re right. This is a marriage and it’s going to work, but it’s probably also going to take work. After all, marriage isn’t all roses and sunsets and great sex.” He tried one of his semi-sweet, puppy dog smiles.

She ignored the smile and his last smartass remark and continued on with her concerns. “And I don’t have the foggiest idea how to make a marriage work. At least you had a good role model.”

“Yes, I suppose I did, but only if I picked things up by osmosis, because I certainly wasn’t paying close attention.”

“Your keen powers of observation didn’t materialize until later?”

“Well you have to be interested in the subject and Frank wasn’t a subject that motivated me for a long time.”

“No, I suppose not.” She took his hand in quiet commiseration.

“Do you honestly resent me?” Being in physical contact again, he dared to broach one of the many topics from their earlier “discussion”.

“No. I don’t. You do have faith in me, don’t you?” She followed his lead.

“Of course I do.”

“Okay. That’s good, then. Maybe we should start by trying to eliminate the button pushing that seemed to be the hallmark of our non-traditional courtship?”

“We certainly know what will hurt and it’s become too automatic to use that knowledge in the heat of the moment.”

She took her hand away from his and started to get up, but then decided it was better to stay close. “I grew up in an abusive household. These are not patterns that I want to repeat.”

He reached out and turned her face gently back towards him. “I know that. It’s not what I want either. I hope you know that I don’t mean half of what I say. You have to look at what I do.”

She shrugged away from his touch again in frustration. “I can’t be a mind reader, Harm. It’s not a skill set that I have. With the right interpretation, the meaning behind your actions is clear, but we have too much history.” Taking a deep breath, she relaxed back against the couch. “We need to take some of the mystery out of this marriage. No more assuming. We agreed to share a life together, for me that means talking to one another, not throwing around old accusations. I hoped it did for you too.”

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“Let’s pretend that we just met
And we’ve said nothing we regret”**

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“It does mean that, but I do have a Y chromosome. You remember, don’t you?” He smiled and renewed his assault on the back of her hand and she didn’t resist.

“Yes, I remember.” Her response was close to a sigh.

“We’re always going to argue, Mac. We usually communicated pretty well about work issues, even when we disagreed, now we just need to learn to transfer that to our personal life.”

“Just so we don’t transfer our personal life back to the office.” She turned and lifted her legs onto his lap.

“You don’t think they’d appreciate our non-verbal communication?” He began to nuzzle the exposed portion of her neck.

“No, but I know I do.”

“Are we okay?” He decided to make one last check before diverting them completely from the serious to the pleasurable.

“For now. We just have to keep paying attention.” She offered a last comment before surrendering to his ministrations. Maybe surrender wasn’t altogether bad. She would consider that tomorrow.

“I’m very good at paying attention.” His second hand began a gentle caress of the thigh that had presented itself, as if for inspection.

“Yes, you’ve demonstrated that skill on more than one occasion.” Her own free hand began a gentle exploration of his shoulders.

“Would you like a repeat performance?” He tried to sound altruistic, but failed.

“Do you really have to ask?” She snuggled closer, if that was possible.

He groaned in response. “I thought we weren’t supposed to assume anymore.”

“You might have a point about actions speaking louder than words, at least in certain circumstances.”

And then she kissed him. Or he kissed her. Or maybe they kissed each other. They didn’t seem to have any trouble at all with that art of compromise. And there was nothing at all to regret. They were going to be okay.

The End

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*”Semper Fi” (John Gorka)
John Gorka, Jack’s Crows

**“You Wouldn’t Say That to a Stranger” (Pat Bunch, Doug Crider)
Suzy Bogguss, Something Up My Sleeve