Author: Staz

Disclaimer: JAG and its characters belong to Bellisarius Productions.

Rating: PG.

Spoilers: None.

Word count: 2700.

Category: Romance/Drama.

Prompt: Make as many corrections as you consider needed.

A/N: This story also responds to the July 2007 HBX Challenge... I think.

Many thanks to my excellent beta-reader, for the never-ending support and the much appreciated comments!


If it makes you happy


Laughter rings through the already laden air of the bar. I look down at my glass of soda and give a small sigh. I really didn’t feel like staying in tonight; I needed a crowd, so I took myself by the hand and simply went out for a drink. Alone.

Sometimes you just need to sit in a crowded room and be completely alone. That way your thoughts aren’t too loud and there’s a general air of normalcy that keeps the calm. Plus there’s the added bonus of testing myself – sitting at a bar, all those forbidden bottles lined up in front of me, and I’m sitting contentedly with my soda. So there.

Laughter bubbles again, rather loudly; there are a couple of girls at a booth that are having a particularly merry time. I return to my soda.

“Makes you want to hear the joke, huh?” A guy sitting two seats away from me has been trying to subtly get my attention for the past 5 minutes, but now that he’s spoken it’d be a tad rude to continue ignoring him.

“Pardon?” I turn to look at him. Seems like a decent guy, in his late fifties, and he’s smiling calmly – not trying to impress, just making pleasant conversation.

“Those girls; they seem really happy.” He signals the barkeeper for another beer.

“I guess.” Take a hint. No, really.

“Thing is, if you take notice, you’ll realize it’s all very superficial...”

The look I aim at him is confusion mixed with wariness of this turning to be one of those conversations you wish you were never dragged into.

He chuckles. “It takes more than a smile and a laugh to convince me someone’s happy.” He looks around the bar for a moment, then discreetly points out a man sitting alone at a corner booth. “See that guy? Been sitting there alone with his glass, you’d think he’s a loner. Maybe a bit sad.” He pauses for affect, and I find myself strangely interested in what he has to say. “But you’ll notice every few minutes he smiles to himself. He’s happy, I have no doubt.”

I have to ask.

“But why do you think those two girls aren’t really happy?”

“Well, for one, the blond keeps checking her watch, as if she can’t wait to get out of here... and the other one is playing with her nails, trying to pass the time.”

I toss a look in their direction and can’t help but note that they really don’t look like they’re having such a great time. Good observational skills. I return to staring at my soda, thinking the conversation’s over.

Wrong.

“Are you happy?”

“Excuse me?” I think I managed to sound incredulous and indignant at once.

“Sorry,” he raises his hands in defense, “I realized after I asked that it might be a bit of a personal question.”

I shoot him a look best described as ‘ya think?!’ and return once again to staring at my drink.

“I just mean...” Oh, for Pete’s sake! “and you don’t have to answer, of course, but deep down, at the end of the day, are you happy?”

I hate people that make you start thinking seriously with just a few words. I can throw my mind into a loop all by myself, thank you. But he does get me thinking... when I finish my day do I have a smile on my face? Even a small one? Sometimes I do. Sure I do. But how often? Shit.

“When do I have time to be happy?” I’m talking to myself mostly now.

“All the time.” the guy answers just as quietly. I find myself looking at him expectantly, as if he holds the answers to my many questions. A complete stranger. In a bar.

Lovely.

“It’s not about finding time, it’s about the feeling deep in your gut that you’re living the life you want to live, sharing it with people who are important to you and who complete you... you’re just... happy. Don’t you really want that?” I have a feeling he could go on; thankful that he doesn’t.

I force a breath of air past my clenched teeth. The soda isn’t revealing any secrets. After five minutes of complete (relative) silence, I utter, “Yeah... I’d like that...”

My phone chooses this moment to ring, shaking me from the somber moment.
Wouldn’t you know it; someone else with a knack of making my thoughts jumble, Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. himself.

“Hey, Harm.”

“Mac!” The level of white noise in the background tells me he’s driving. “What’s up?”

Oh, the sky, the ceiling, this nice light fixture I hope will fall on my head. “Where are you driving to?”

“Just wrapped things up at Ops, on my way home now. I was wondering if you’re up for coffee or something!”

A smile forms on my face. “As usual, one step ahead of you, sailor.”

“Huh?”

“I’m at McMurphy’s.”

“Oh!” He’s silent for a moment, probably entertaining ludicrous thoughts. I think I’ll spare him.

“Wanna join me?”

“Uh. Sure, Mac, be there soon.”

“Kay, Bye.” And I hang up, small smile firmly in place.

“Just like that.” The ominous voice to my left is at it again.

“What?” I wonder if he’s ever going to give up. Is he going to continue with the sideline notes when Harm gets here? God, I hope not.

“That was the happiness I was talking about.” He says and gets up. For about a second I’m worried he might try to move closer or something. Not that I couldn’t take him with one hand tied to the opposite ankle and my hair in my eyes, but I don’t feel like getting thrown out of the bar. “I’m done pestering for the night, and it seems like you’re getting better company now anyways.” He smiles warmly. I smile back.

“It was nice meeting you.” I offer my hand to shake his.

“You too. Keep smiling.” I do until he’s out the door.

-----

About five minutes later the dashing figure of a certain Naval officer enters the bar.

“Hey, Mac! Fancy meeting you here!” He throws with a trademark smile. I answer with an indulgent one.

We sit and chat about mundane things.
Actually... it’s Harm doing most of the chatting while I’m staring off into space...

“Hey... is everything ok?” he’s got my attention back now.

“Uh, yeah, sure.. why?”

“Oh, maybe because you’re not really participating in this conversation... which is rather interesting if I do say so myself.”

“Sorry, Harm. I’m just thinking.”

“What about?”

I stay quiet for a while. He waits patiently till I turn to face him as fully as I can, considering we’re sitting next to the bar. “Are you happy, Harm?”

“Wha-What?” I have to laugh at the deer-in-the-headlights look he’s sporting now. He’s too cute!

“Sorry,” I’m really not, “forgot you weren’t privy to my thought process. I just had this conversation about happiness with a guy...” I point to the now empty seat, “that made me start thinking...”

Harm stays quiet and I’m torn between getting up and leaving hurriedly, or hiding beneath the bar. “What were you thinking?” He finally asks.

I carefully turn the glass in front of me to and fro. “Just about things... things I’ve done. Things I haven’t. Things I wish were different.”

“What brought this on, Mac?” He looks straight into my eyes and I feel I have to look away before I start tearing up.

“I just want to be happy, I guess.” I shrug and shift my focus to a certain spot on the bar.

“There’s more”. I can’t decide if I’m pleased or annoyed that he knows me well enough to say that. I shrug again and pick up a stray napkin to occupy my hands. The words come out so softly, *I’m* not even sure I’ve said them.

“I’d hate to think that after all I’ve gone through... everything I’ve fought so hard to accomplish... that I only have what would be called an existence and not a happy life.”

All is quiet between us, and I don’t dare shift my gaze from my chosen spot on the smooth wood. Then he speaks so suddenly; my head snaps up and in his direction. “If you could do something that would make you happy, anything at all, what would it be?”

I just stare at him blankly, thoughts clambering in my mind, none coming out.

“Come on, Mac. No complications, no consequences – anything.” There’s half a smile lifting the corners of his lips and a twinkle in his eye that make something snap inside me.

“No complications?” Is the first ordered thought to enter my mind and be hurled into the space between the two of us.

He just shakes his head slowly from side to side and leans sideways on the bar, facing me.

There are about 10 different things I could answer that question with. Nine of which ought to change my life quite a bit. But it’s easier to just keep on living the same way. Change takes courage. It requires sacrifice. It would be so easy to laugh away this serious question and fall back on the familiar friendship. Oh so easy. Easy sucks.

My eyes drop to his hand on the wooden surface and no sooner than I think about doing it, my hand comes to rest on top of it. I slowly caress his long fingers, circling his knuckles and tracing lines from them downwards.

I lift my gaze, allowing my fingers freedom, and notice that our hands have become Harm’s focus; he’s mesmerized.

I move closer.

I’m in his personal space.

He’s still oblivious.

I’m a breath away.

He turns his face just in time for his lips to meet mine in a tender, light and tentative touch. Just as slowly, I open my eyes and back away.

Through my daze, I can tell he’s also slightly stunned. I command my brain to retrieve my hand back from his and break contact, for fear of being unable to do it at a later time. As we come to break contact, Harm appears to snap to and turns his hand abruptly to catch mine.

I wasn’t ready for this.

My eyes fly to his and I wonder, through the cacophony that is my brain, if he even has a clue how much he just shook me to the core.

My first reaction is anger. He’s taking away my control of the moment.
Anger melts to accusation – how dare he?! Wasn’t he the one that just promised me ‘no complications’??
Insecurity bites and doubt bubbles to the surface of my thoughts. I really shouldn’t have done that... it was impulsive and stupid and a million other things my brain can not compute right now.
Hope is lingering at the sidelines, unheard in the mayhem, but always there.

“Are you happy now?” I am gladly drawn out of my thoughts by his voice. It isn’t accusing or mocking, rather warm and caring and I find myself starting to thaw.

I can feel a bit of a blush warming my cheeks and a hint of a smile behind my lips. I wonder if he can tell. “Getting there.” Is what comes out when I open my mouth. I find it fitting and end it there.

We just grin at each other for another second, then a light flickers in my head. “What about you?” Now that I’ve asked, I’m not really sure I want to know... but I do. I need to know. “What would you do?” I clarify.

I watch as he puts on a show of pondering my question. He takes out his wallet, rather deliberately I think. The amount of money he places on the bar is enough to cover both our drinks and a lovely tip. He replaces the wallet in his pocket and gets up.
I follow his moves, the questions burning a hole behind my eyes, while a nagging voice at the back of my head tries to warn and keep me wary.

Next time I really should listen to that voice, I think as I find myself lifted out of my seat by a strong pair of arms. I did *not* see this one coming.

Suddenly I am airborne.

And I don’t like it.

“Harm!” I whisper fiercely at him. “Put me down!”

He’s grinning his insufferable grin and only laughs at my ire. Our exit is escorted by a few choice whistles and catcalls.

Outside the cool air envelopes us, and my knight chooses to speak. “But, Mac, this makes me happy!”

He doesn’t seem too happy with the punch his shoulder just received, but he persists and only puts me down when we reach my car. I huff my displeasure.

“You’re crazy.” I mutter to myself when he finally, ever so slowly, puts me down. But my insides are fluttering and I don’t think my stern, reproachful look is all that stern and reproachful.

Ah, hell, I’m half grinning up at him, and he’s grinning back full blast.

“I think we should work on this being happy thing.” He says. I have to bite back the laughter that wants out, and try to nod my head pensively.

“They say happiness is important to a healthy life.” I try to contribute to the conversation.

He takes a step forward and I raise a brow, taking a small step back. Harm gives a short laugh that makes my heart stutter in my chest, and takes another step to me. I’d take another step back, fleshing out our ordinarily verbal dance, but a large hunk of cold red metal is at my back, blocking my path.

This time Harm is the one throwing my the perfected look of ‘your move, whatcha gonna do?’.

I lean back, my hands behind my back, warding off some of the chill. A metal chill that is contrasted and surpassed by the heat radiating from his body, oh so close to mine.

My eyes, which were seeing god knows what up until now, focus on his and I am found.

A brief moment of lucidity clears my mind and I find myself saying, “There’s so much to fix...”

He leans closer and clarity fades to the corner. “We can do it.” I imagine more than actually see his shrug.

The next thing I register is his warm touch at my waist. Before I can make the instinctive move of lowering my head to make sure the feeling isn’t my imagination, there’s a touch at my chin.

His lips find mine.

Everything fades away as we kiss, our lips periodically moving away for a fraction of a second and a millionth of an inch, finding their way back to each other time and time again for another taste and a different touch.

His hand finds its way into mine, behind my back, to lace its fingers through mine. The kiss deepens as my heartbeat quickens to keep up with the increasing demand for oxygen and the coming alive of all nerve endings available. I squeeze and tug slightly on his hand and am rewarded by his strong form pressing into me.

Slowly, I feel my hand coaxed from its squished position.

No matter.

No chill – metal or other, could penetrate the warmth that’s pulsing from my very core.

He brings our joint hands between us, ends the kiss and bestows one on my fingers.

“It’s gonna take a lot of doing, Harm.” I whisper in the warm cool air, when I regain my breath and ability to think.

“It’s life, Mac, and you know very well, that if we put our minds to it we can fix anything that needs fixing.” Man’s got a point.

Harm gathers me fully into his arms, one hand gliding up and down along my back. Burrowing into his neck, warmth envelopes me and the outside world is blocked out entirely.

There’s one thing I’m going to fix right here and now. The first of many, I vow to myself. “Harm...” I whisper into his ear. His reaction is immediate and highly satisfying. “You make me happy.”

-----

The End.