Title: Let The River Run

Author: Gibson
Prompt: “Make the leap - destiny awaits.”
Word Count: 6,734
Category: Drama/Humour/Romance(H/M)
Rating: PG13

Author’s Notes: I think the time period is pretty obvious, however equally as obvious is that some elements of this story aren’t canon. For the sake of sanity, perhaps it’s best to just consider this a sort of ‘self-contained AU’ piece. For the sake of not pointing out the differences here and possibly ruining the story a little, just assume that our little JAG universe is pretty much intact, with a few minor adjustments that don’t really effect things one way or another. Assume that characters who should be gone, are most likely gone, things that needed to happen to make this story work have happened, and things that are different are different for no other reason than because that’s just the way the story came to me.

Oh - one more thing... some may think that I have taken a little poke at a couple of my, shall we say, ‘least favorite’ characters. My intention was to simply supply a humourous situation, and was more a jab at the way TPTB tended to write them, rather than at the characters themselves. For staunch supporters of these in heretofore mentioned characters, I apologize (a little) if you take offense. But as they say, all is fair in love and war... and fanfiction about love and war... (grin)

Summary: A little slip of paper takes the JAG world by storm.

*************************

It's asking for the taking.
Trembling, shaking.
Oh, my heart is aching.
We're coming to the edge,
Running on the water,
Coming through the fog,
Your sons and daughters.
Let the river run,
Let all the dreamers
Wake the nation.
Come, the New Jerusalem

~~Carly Simon~~

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He settled back into his office chair and watched her cross the bullpen floor to that other office, the creaking of the old wooden furniture beneath him a goading reminder of his own mortality. Of how his bones weren’t getting any younger. Of how he wasn’t the young and brash upstart his mind liked to continue thinking he was. And mostly, of how all that had compiled to bring about his failure at securing this woman’s love.

He’d almost had it for awhile there, at least, he thought he had. But now, watching her there, in that other office, he had to second guess himself. Had she ever looked at him like that before? Did she radiate like that in his presence? He shook his head and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, nervously fingering the small sliver of paper he held in his lap. His eyes lingered over the words for the hundredth time since receiving it last night, ‘Make the leap - destiny awaits.’

He normally didn’t give much weight to generic forecasts contained in bad take-out, but this one had stuck in his mind as he had, for the third time this week, eaten out of a paper container alone in his tiny apartment. Perhaps it really was trying to tell him something. Perhaps this really never was going to be.

He tossed the fortune onto his desk and retrieved a different piece of paper. This one of a more official capacity. An offer of employment. Not actual message traffic yet, but an email from his detailer, intending to gauge his interest. An offer to go back to sea. More of a lateral move really, but at sea at least he knew where he stood. He supposed he could turn the offer down without any career ramifications much at all, but at sea he felt free and in control and more like a man. Here he had lost all of those things. Maybe this was exactly what he needed.

His eyes drifted back to the figures in that other office. She was beautiful, that was for certain. It would be hard to admit defeat and give that up, but sometimes one had to acknowledge that it was just time to cut losses and run. He had given her an unhealthy amount of time and it still didn’t appear that she was getting any closer to rescheduling the wedding. If he was honest with himself, he would have to say that he always knew it would come to something like this. He was a charmer - that was his way. And it had always been his way with the fairer sex. Unfortunately, the problem with being a charmer is that one is often left wondering what to do with them once they’ve been charmed. Some day, if he really didn’t want to spend the rest of his life alone, he was going to have to figure that part out.

Laughter wafted from that other office and stung his heart with it’s hidden secrets. It was probably only then - at that particular moment - that he knew for certain he was done for. That there was really no fighting this in the long term. Tentatively, he let his eyes drift to his long time nemesis. That 6'4? pain in the ass. How he’d like to clean his clock one last time for old times sake. But on the other hand, to be brutally honest, he didn’t relish going through court martial proceedings at this particular moment in time. Looking back, he couldn’t figure out how it had gotten this far anyway. Certainly, if he looked like that, he’d have made this sheila his wife and put her under lock and key long ago. For a while he’d honestly thought that maybe Rabb hadn’t cared for her after all. That maybe he was just looking out for her in a brotherly sort of way, but he didn’t believe that now. Not anymore. Certainly not as he looked at him there, reclined behind his desk with his chin perched on his thumb and forefinger... hanging on her every word as if his next breath depended on it. If there had been kindling within a three foot radius of Rabb’s desk right now, spontaneous combustion would surely have followed.

Mic stood defiantly and took a deep, cleansing breath. There was no looking back now. “Sod it” he muttered and grabbed the active case files from his desk, heading towards the Admirals office for what would most likely be his last time. He decided to look on the bright side. He had been about to face down another Washington winter. At least this way, he’d be just in time for bikini season on Manly Beach. Things might be looking up after all.


Some Days Later...


“Yes sir... I know, sir... but it’s just that... Well, what if it’s just something I can’t do? I mean, what if I find it’s too hard?”

“Tiner? Do you still have Brumby’s case files on your desk?”

Jason Tiner cupped the receiver briefly to cover the outburst and then sighed inwardly. “Sir, I’m going to have to put you on hold for a moment, is that alright? Thank you so much, one moment.” Before he could take a breath to reply, the Admiral blustered into the outer office.

“Tiner? Do you think I’m talking to myself in there?”

Jason apologetically indicated the phone still cradled in his neck. “Sorry Admiral, I was on the phone.”

Admiral Chegwidden’s anger deflated slightly. “My apologies Petty Officer. Anyone important?”

“No sir, Admiral. Just my detailer. I put him on hold - is that alright? I could tell him I’ll call back?” Tiner had long since learned the best way to appease this senior officer was to fall all over one’s self with subservience.

“No - not necessary. I just wanted to redistribute these Brumby files.” The admiral picked up a folder in each hand and considered each briefly. “Rabb.” he threw one file unceremoniously in front of Tiner and picked up the third. “Mackenzie and Roberts.” He threw the remaining two files down in succession on top of the first. “Actually,” he reconsidered, “better make that second one Singer, it needs a cold, calculating heart of stone.” The admiral turned to retreat into his office when he suddenly stopped and turned back to the young Petty Officer. “Did I just say that last part out loud?”

“Uh... yes, sir.”

“Hm.” He shook his head in slight disbelief and returned to the confines of his office.

Tiner smirked slightly and was about to hit the hold button on his phone when a small piece of paper caught his eye, peaking out from underneath the stack of files that had just been piled haphazardly in front of him. He drew it out and unfurled it. ‘Make the leap - destiny awaits.’ Jason stared at the paper for a moment and then a small smile creased his face.

“Sir, are you still there? Yes sir, thanks for waiting. You know sir, I think I’d like you to send me that OCS application after all.”


Some More Days Later...


“Bud? For Pete’s sake will you hurry up?”

“Yes, dear.” Bud Roberts trailed after his wife with a stack of file folders piled precariously in his arms. Doing a fine interpretation of a Vaudevillian circus routine, he swerved around one bustling staff member and narrowly missed another before doing a complete three hundred and sixty degree turn and coming to a heavy stop on the leg of his desk. “Ouch.” He winced quietly and stepped back into the path of a cute young brunette who was passing behind him.

“Oh shoot.” The young Lieutenant muttered as she bent to pick up her papers that had been sent scattering to the floor.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” Bud immediately dropped to one knee and began to help her gather the files. He was so intent on his task that he didn’t realize the pretty Lieutenant had stopped helping him and was now staring at his face in disbelief.

“Buddy? Buddy Roberts Junior??”

Bud looked up in alarm and a large smile swept over his features. Oh my god - Lynette. Lynette Saunders. It’s so good to see you.” Bud helped his former course-mate to her feet and handed back the papers he’d managed to collect. “It’s been so long - how have you been?”

“Great. Really great, Buddy. I just got transferred here actually.”

“To JAG Headquarters? Really?” Bud was surprised as he knew she’d been in Cryptology, but his mind wasn’t particularly interested in that anyway. This woman had been his dream girl back in training. She’d been one of the only females he’d ever known to be not only friendly to him, but a true friend. Helping him study and inspiring him when he’d been down. He’d often wondered if he’d have made it through if it hadn’t been for her encouragement, and without a doubt, whatever self confidence he now possessed had been largely her doing. He had pined over her endlessly even though he was convinced she had no romantic interest in him. The way she was looking at him now though, he couldn’t quite recall exactly what had made him think like that.

“Oh - sorry, no - not here in this building, but to Washington anyway.” They stared at each other and smiled briefly, both caught up in old, happy memories. “Uh..” Lieutenant Saunders finally snapped herself out of her thoughts. “... I have to go now Buddy... I’m late for a meeting, but ummm...” she smiled and tried to calm her nerves “... maybe we could get together some time? You know... you could show me around?”

Bud suddenly flushed a deep red. “I uh...” he stuttered uncomfortably and brought up his left hand, awkwardly flashing his wedding ring before tucking his hand under his arm again.

“Oh.” The Lieutenant looked utterly crestfallen but recovered quickly. “Of course, Buddy - how silly of me. I just meant, you know... maybe we could just have coffee some time - you know... catch up.”

“Of course.” Bud stuttered. “That would be great.” He looked at her soberly for a moment and a twinge of regret passed through his heart. “It was really good to see you again, Lynette.”

“It was good to see you again too Buddy.” She smiled sadly. “And Bud... if ever... you know... if you ever find yourself...” she wasn’t sure she knew how to continue, or if she really should. “Well... just look me up OK?”

Bud just stared at her in shock and nodded his head as she scurried off down the corridor. He couldn’t even turn to watch her go.

“Bud. What are you doing standing there? You’re going to be late for the morning brief for goodness sake, where is your head?”

“Yes, dear.” Bud unzipped his jacket and simultaneously grabbed at the Henderson file so he wouldn’t forget to take it with him. As he did, a small slip of paper floated to his desk. He caught it up quickly and peered at the typing. ‘Make the leap - destiny awaits.’ Bud considered the words thoughtfully for a moment before shaking his head. “What kind of a stupid fortune is that?” He shoved the paper abruptly in his pocket and slipped the jacket off, replacing it on the hook that his blue tunic had occupied only moments before. Swinging on the dress jacket and grabbing the Henderson file again, Bud started off towards the elevators.

“Bud - you’ve got a little dweebie of hair sticking up on the back of your head, didn’t you look in a mirror this morning?”

He licked his fingers and smoothed down the unruly lock as he walked past her desk. “Sorry, Harriet” he smiled cheerily. “See you when I get back, sweetie.”


And Yet Still More, Further Days Later...
NAS Pax River,


“Hey Mac. Nice of you to come join the investigation.” He couldn’t keep the grin from his face whenever she was around these days, and he tried not to keep looking at that bare left-hand finger he suspected to be the cause of it all.

“Well I should have known that you couldn’t handle this all by yourself.” Mac had difficulty suppressing a grin herself - he always looked good enough to eat in a flight suit - but she was stumped when it came to why he was standing there with his hands displayed like a surgeon who had just scrubbed up. “Umm...what the hell’s the matter with you?”

Harm grunted and kicked open his locker door. “Aww we took that stupid Hornet up to check out the HUD system and the stupid thing had a hydraulic leak. I got the fluid all over my hands.”

Mac shook her head in disbelief. Harm calling an aircraft “stupid” was a shocker in any circumstance, but twice in one sentence... “Oh, muffin. And you’re afraid to get your little flight suit dirty?” She suddenly dropped all mocking tone in her voice. “Harm, I’m sure they have an extra one around here they can lend you if you get yours dirty.”

He simply cocked one eyebrow in that way which seemed to telepath he would gladly spank her for being so saucy. “Ma-ac. Do you know how hard it is to find a flight suit that fits a 6'4" person? In fact - 6'4" is the cut-off height for pilots. If I’d been a quarter of an inch taller...”

“Come on Harm - can’t you argue with me and get changed at the same time? I came here to help you with the investigation, not stand here listening to you relive your glory days.” Mac quite satisfactorily regarded him as his jaw dropped comically and he scrambled for some sort of mentally superior retort. “Well, c’mon Harm. Shake a leg, will ya?”

He finally managed to kickstart his thoughts. “My glory days? I wasn’t... Mac... I was just commenting...” Harm finally sighed and his eyes traveled hopelessly around the room. “Well, actually... I was kinda stalling for someone to come in here.”

Mac’s forehead furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

“Because I need someone to unzip my flight suit for me.” Exasperated, Harm thrust out his arms - his hydraulic fluid covered hands dangling hopelessly in attempted explanation.

Mac could only chuckle at her partner’s overwhelming distress. Leave it to him to be so utterly ‘Martha Stewart’ when it came to his flying gear. Unable to resist, she hitched one eyebrow and sauntered over to him, slowly and purposefully encroaching on his personal space. Standing impossibly close, she adopted the most dangerous femme fatale voice she could possibly muster. “Top zipper down, or bottom zipper up, Flyboy?” In hindsight, it was probably only at then that she truly realized she had stepped over that damned proverbial line. But once you cross a line like that, how do you step back over it? I mean, really. Aside from the fact that she had meant it to be a joke. Standing there, toe to toe, nose to chin... how do you take back the fact that you’re thinking about something that’s on the side of a couple of flimsy layers of fabric... well, a couple of flimsy layers of fabric and a zipper?

He had almost been too stunned to reply. Almost. Dropping to the vocal range he normally reserved for the bedroom, he dished it right back at her. “Well, I guess that all depends on what you’re hoping to find, Mac.” Gauntlet down. If she wanted to do this here, he wasn’t going to pass it up. He had been trying unsuccessfully for weeks to get her to talk about what was going on between them. If this was where she finally decided to play this out, here was just fine with him.

“Commander Rabb.” The shock of the Petty Officer calling Harm’s name separated them instantaneously. “Commander Rabb, are you in here?” The young PO stopped short and looked questioningly back and forth between the Colonel and the Commander as he entered the locker room - feeling as though he’d just interrupted something, but not altogether sure whether it would be wise to point that fact out right now. “Uh... I brought you some Gunk for your hands, sir. It’s the best thing to take that stuff off.”

Harm tried desperately not to look as awkward as he felt at this moment “Great. Thanks PO. Uh... you wouldn’t be able to... uh...” He did the surgeon act with his hands again until the Petty Officer caught on.

“You want me to roll up your sleeves for you, sir?”

Harm shook his head in slight disbelief as he rolled his eyes. “That would be great, thank you.” He eyed Mac tentatively out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t know why I didn’t think of that before” he mumbled.

“Listen Harm, I’m gonna let you get changed and cleaned up here. I’ll meet you in the O Club for a coffee and you can bring me up to speed there when you’re done.”

“Actually ma’am.” The Petty Officer cut into their conversation. “If you’re helping the Commander with the Billingston investigation, I was just going to inform him that the XO wanted him to head straight over to Hangar 3. I’m not sure what’s going on over there, but he seemed in an awful hurry when I passed him and he had two Shore Police in tow.”

Mac and Harm exchanged concerned glances - their embarrassment from the earlier incident gone and their thoughts jarred instantaneously back into work-mode. Harm did that thing where he tried to impart as much seriousness as he could into a single look. “Wait for me outside, Mac. This Billingston guy has been known to be a little unstable.”

“What if the XO needs our help? It’s going to take you a few minutes to change, Harm. I’ll just run over and see what’s up.” She was going to launch into her ‘I’m a Marine’ speech, but she figured that by now, it was surely just a given.

Meanwhile, the Petty Officer, noticing the exasperated glare coming from the tall Commander’s direction, chose that moment to back out of the room slowly. He would have normally made some brief, closing remark like “If you need anything else, let me know” but he was pretty sure that neither of these officers were going to hear anything he had to say right now.

“Ma-ac...”

“Oh, that reminds me Harm,” it wasn’t only pilots who were experts at dropping chaff, “I brought your black jacket like you asked. What did you need that for?”

Harm saw the chaff for what it was, but thought it would work equally well as a stalling technique while he finished cleaning off his hands. “I... uh... got mustard on my blue tunic.” He ducked his head almost shamefully.

“You ate mustard in your Blues? Harm - how long have you been in the Navy?” She tossed his jacket on the bench beside him as she turned to go.

“Hey - I can’t eat mustard in my Whites either. You know, sometimes a guy just feels like having mustard...” Harm’s eye suddenly fell on the epaulettes of the jacket she had just tossed down. “Awww... Mac. This isn’t my jacket - it must be Bud’s. Look at the rank insignia.”

“Oh... crap... sorry, Harm. I was in a hurry and didn’t look.” She was still backing up, trying to make her exit before he started stripping off his flight suit. “Well, I’ll meet you outside the hangar, OK?”

“Mac. Wait for me.” He almost stumbled as he tried to pull his flight suit off over his boots. “Mac. You little...” he was most definitely going to get her for this.

Mac almost had to giggle a little bit as she hurried down the flight line to the next hangar. Harm always had to be in the middle of everything and she found immense glee in every situation where she beat him to the action. It also didn’t hurt that she had escaped from the locker room before Harm completely stripped off his flight suit. Despite the bravado she put on earlier, she knew she wouldn’t be able to prevent herself from staring at whatever was under that thing - be it boxers... thighs... she was pretty sure he wouldn’t go commando in a flight suit but...

“pop-pop”

“What the...?” Mac’s mind suddenly shifted gears when she heard the distinctive sound, however she immediately shook her head. Could she have mistaken it for something else? It is a maintenance hangar after all... maybe it had been a rivet gun or something? Cautiously she approached the hangar door and peered through the glass. Unable to see anything of particular interest, she turned back down the flight line to see if Harm was on his way. When she saw he wasn’t, she impatiently glared through the door again. What if those had been gunshots? She couldn’t just stand here - someone might require immediate assistance. Cursing the fact that she was without side-arm, she slowly leaned into the door and opened it a crack - listening for any other signs of a struggle. When she once more heard and saw nothing, she took one last look for Harm over her shoulder and slipped inside.

It wasn’t until she was several feet inside the hangar door that she saw the body. Instinctively, she took cover behind a row of lockers and calmed her breathing. So she hadn’t been wrong about the sound of gunshots. For a moment she wondered why she ever doubted herself - some things you just never forget the sound of.

She caught a sudden movement out of the corner of her eye. The XO, Lieutenant Commander Angus McConnell, was behind a similar row of lockers about 30 feet away from her. She had been given the rather dubious pleasure of meeting him several months back when they had been on an earlier investigation at Pax River. She chuckled inwardly and wondered how Harm and he had been getting on this time. The last investigation she had seriously thought Harm was going to pummel him senseless over the XO’s rather obvious and somewhat endless stream of passes he tossed in her direction. McConnell gestured soundlessly toward a large crate on the other side of the hangar - she assumed the present position of their shooter. Mac nodded her comprehension and attempted to peer around the edge of the locker row. The shooter, who she guessed was Billingston, was just snapping another clip into his 9mm when he caught her movement and quickly fired off two rounds in her direction. The locker unit vibrated with the impact of the rounds and she winced at the resonance of the thin metal unit. The obvious flimsiness of her present protection made her nervous and she scanned around to see if she could locate a better choice of hiding place.

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Commander McConnell continued his attempt to disarm the suspect. “No one else needs to get hurt Master Chief. We can end this right now if you put your weapon down. The JAGs are here, would you like to talk to them?”

“And what would be the point of that, sir? My career in the Navy is over. That was my entire life. As far as I’m concerned I don’t have one anymore. There’s nothing left to save.”

Mac watched the XO’s eyes turn upwards, behind her position. She followed his gaze and her heart jumped slightly as she saw Harm stealthily trying to make his way along the catwalk that ran above her and most of the way around the hangar. It looked as though he was trying to make it to a position around behind the gun-toting Master Chief.

“Dammit, Harm,” she whispered to herself. Didn’t he know how crazy it made her every time he threw himself into the middle of danger like that? Didn’t he realize that this was only going to make her do something equally as insane to prevent him from getting hurt? “Stupid, stupid, son-of-a...” Mac’s thoughts were cut off by the report of gunfire and the subsequent sounds of ricochets bouncing of the iron catwalk railing. Mac quickly poked her head out and witnessed Harm’s sudden and rather ungraceful one-eighty as he tried to manoeuver out of the line of fire and his presently completely exposed position. Her heart lodged in her throat as he slid under the lower railing and in between two large crates piled high above the hangar floor. It was a slightly more protected position, but all Billingsley had to do was walk into the middle of the floor and Harm would be trapped.

“What are you doing, Master Chief?” Harm’s distinct baritone echoed throughout the building. “This isn’t going to solve anything.”

“Sure it is Commander. Haven’t you ever heard of death by cop?”

Mac’s head fell back against the metal cabinet. So that was his angle. This was a suicide they were all here for.

“And what if I’m not armed?”

“Then I guess one of your friends is going to have to shoot me.”

Much to Mac’s horror, Master Chief Billingsley was indeed skirting the floor, slowly coming around to this side of the sea crate. Once he was in the middle of the hangar, Harm would be completely exposed to him - caught in between the two crates with no escape. “Please be armed, Harm. For the love of God, please be armed...” She heard the unmistakable sound of a Beretta being cocked, and looked to her left to see several SP’s readying their weapons. Unfortunately, due to the Master Chief’s recent change in direction, there were now two forklifts between them and their intended target. If they were going to get a line of sight, they needed to either change their position or get the Master Chief to change his. As there probably wasn’t time for the former, maybe this was her opportunity to do something... anything, it didn’t matter what. Knowing it was foolish, she stepped out from behind the row of lockers. “Stand down, Master Chief. That’s an order.” She was still 50 feet or so from Billingsley, and could easily pop back behind the lockers if need be, but at least it would take his attention away from Harm for a moment and maybe even be enough to draw the armed man into the SP’s line of fire.

There was a moment of silence before the sailor doubled over in laughter, slowly walking towards her, drawing his weapon up even with his shoulder. “Oh, you’ve got to be joking me...”

Without warning, they both turned at the sound that came seemingly out of nowhere. The few moments of Mac’s diversion had given Harm time to squirm out from between the boxes and he had now launched himself off of the top of the pile, straight in the direction of the Master Chief. His feet had barely touched ground when the first bullet struck Harm square in the chest and sent him reeling back into the sea crate. The second and third seem to strike in slow motion and Mac felt the blows in her own chest almost as much as if those bullets had been intended for her. She tried to scream his name, but nothing came out as she lost command of her legs and unwillingly sank to her knees, watching in unparalleled horror as his body finally flopped forward to the ground with a sickening thud. He hadn’t even put his hands out to brake the fall.

She didn’t hear the melee of bullets that had started with the first of the Master Chief’s. Didn’t see his body crumple to the floor or the Quick Reaction Force come piling out from behind their respective positions to apprehend the suspect. All she could concentrate on was getting herself to her feet, desperate to get to him but terrified of what she would find when she got there. And in her brain, only one word repeated itself over and over. “No. No. No. NO!”

She skidded to a stop in front of him, on her knees once more - afraid to touch and yet simultaneously wanting to throw herself on him in despair. When she saw the pool of blood seeping out from under his head, her own began to spin with fear. “No, Harm. Please no.” Finally, she put one hand on his shoulder and rolled him slightly, bracing herself for the onslaught of blood she expected to find. There was none. She looked at the blood by his head. There wasn’t much really. Not as much as there should have been. She touched his back, looking for exit wounds, and froze. His back was hard and... “What the hell?” Lieutenant Commander McConnell reached her then and helped her roll Harm to his side.

“Commander. This is the XO. Are you all right? Can you hear me? Wow - thank God he was wearing a vest. I thought he was a goner for a minute there.”

Mac just stared at him, completely stunned. “He was wearing a vest.” It wasn’t a question, but more of a declaration full of shock and awe. It suddenly took all of her Marine training to stop herself from breaking into tears. “Oh my God he was wearing a vest.”

“It looks like he broke his nose in the fall, ma’am but I can’t see that any of the bullets penetrated his armor.” A corpsman had Harm’s vest open now, checking the still unconscious Commander for further injury. “His head most likely took a good crack off that sea crate though. He’s probably just out cold.”

She wanted to cry from relief, but she bit her lip instead. Putting on an air of forced confidence, she still couldn’t keep her voice from sounding small. “He’s got a history of concussions. We should probably get him to sick bay to be on the safe side.”

Forty five minutes later, she sat slouched in a corner chair in sickbay, her arms crossed in anger, her eyes never leaving a chip of paint she’d found on the floor about fifteen minutes earlier.

“Mac. You can’t stay mad at me forever.” He lightly squeezed the bridge of his nose where a small butterfly bandage was holding the skin together. “At least say something. Please. I’d rather you yell at me than give me the silent treatment.”

Mac stood finally and paced away from him as he sat unmoving on the examination table, feet dangling over the side like a lost little boy. “I just don’t understand why you keep doing things like that, Harm.”

He thought about feigning ignorance, but didn’t want to inflame her anger any more than it already was. “I was just trying to catch the bad guy, Mac. You know - Batman and Robin?”

She spun on him before he could even attempt an innocent grin. “Batman and Robin? Harm, Batman and Robin worked together!” She threw her arm out and pointed in the direction of their latest escapade. “That was you recreating the cliff scene from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid all by yourself!”

“Well, technically Mac, nobody shot at them in ‘the cliff scene’...”

“Harm...”

“If you want to be completely accurate about the shooting part, it would probably be the final scene of Butch Cassidy... however, there was no giant leap in that one they just...”

“HARM.” She dropped into the chair again and buried her face in her hands. “Do you mind? I’m still trying to come to terms with witnessing your death.”

Harm winced inwardly. He felt awful - knowing full well how it would have been for him had the situations been reversed. “Mac, I’m really sorry I put you through that, but at the time, I didn’t think it was a risk. I mean, I was wearing a vest. I knew I’d be fine.” He brought one finger up in argument, “I actually brought one for you too you know - but I left it at the door when I saw you were too far away...”

“Didn’t think it was a risk??” Her jaw dropped in wonder as she stood and walked towards him. “Harm, how can you say that? What if he’d shot you in the head?”

He opened his mouth to say something but she ran right over top of him.

“I hate it when you say things like that. You and your stupid, noble... how can you keep saying things like that when you know full well they aren’t true? You couldn’t possibly have known you were going to be alright. Same as when you keep promising people you’re going to help them, or that everything’s going to be fine, ‘Mac, I’m going to get you through this, I promise...’, ‘Keeter, we’re going to get you out of here, I promise.’ - how can you keep making promises about things that are completely out of your control?” She was breathing heavily after her rant and obviously struggling to keep her emotions in check.

Harm held her eyes for a moment and then dropped them. “I’m sorry I scared you, Mac. But I certainly wasn’t going to let him shoot you, and it seemed like a good idea at the time...” he reached into the pocket of the jacket lying beside him and pulled out a piece of paper. “At the time, I guess I actually thought it was fate” with a coy smile, he held it out to her.

She stepped forward, taking the small offering and reading the words typed there. ‘Make the leap - destiny awaits.’ She looked up with a mask of incredulity. “You did that because of a fortune cookie you got.”

Harm shrugged defensively “Hey - it wasn’t my fortune - this is Bud’s jacket remember? I was just looking for something to maybe throw and distract the guy. This was all I found.” He shrugged again. “Like I said, it made sense at the time.”

She shook her head and her eyes filled. “And what if you’d died? What was I supposed to do then?” In the ensuing uncomfortable silence, scared that she had just said too much in the heat of the moment, she glanced helplessly around the room and attempted to divert the conversation. “You maybe didn’t stop to think that it could have meant something else?”

Harm’s expression softened and he leaned forward to catch hold of her wrist, pulling her close. “You mean, that it was maybe more metaphorical? Like an emotional leap instead of a physical one?”

She was mesmerized by his eyes. In the back of her mind, she wanted to run away, afraid of what this could become, but she was too traumatized by recent events to risk that any more. Instead, she simply nodded.

“Well, that certainly could have been another interpretation.” He pretended to weigh her suggestion carefully. “But try as I might, Mac - there’s only one emotional leap that I could think of making right now and truthfully, I don’t know if you’re ready for it.”

Mac’s eyes grew in size and he could feel her want to pull away. It only caused him to tighten his grip. “Me? What would... I mean, why would...”

“Because...” his voice had turned low and gravelly once more, “... every time we’ve tried to talk about this, you’ve put me off with ‘laters’ and ‘when-the-time-comes’.” He tilted his head slightly and screwed up one eye. “Maybe you’re the one that needs to make the emotional leap, Mac.”

Her heart was beating rapidly and she felt like there was a giant weight upon her chest - like it was taking everything in her just to breathe. A part of her was glad that Harm seemed so in control of the situation, like he knew exactly where he was going, because right now she was so overwhelmed she couldn’t even find her voice. She wanted so much to believe, but at the same time, she was terrified. To top it all off, he had pulled her way too close. Damn him, she could never think when he was this close.

Harm knew he had her. Knew he had woven her into his spell. This was the opportunity he’d been waiting for for weeks and he wasn’t going to blow it now. “Well,” he considered playfully “Then again, I suppose when you’re asking someone to make a leap, it’s only right that you should be prepared to leap right along with them.” He took her other hand slowly and hoped to God that the corpsman or anyone else wasn’t planning on coming to check on them any time soon. “That’s was your analogy, wasn’t it Mac? The ‘cliff scene’ from Butch Cassidy? Well, maybe you’re right.”

He stared at her so long and so tenderly she was afraid she might pass out. Was he actually going to kiss her right here in sick bay? Was he really trying to tell her that he was ready to let go?

“Marry me, Mac.”

Without warning, her throat constricted completely and it was all but impossible to draw any kind of air into her lungs. She had thought maybe a kiss. Maybe even - if she had been extremely lucky - a declaration of love... but this?? When she could breathe again she realized he’d swiftly dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a diamond ring, holding it up to twinkle in the small space that there was between them. “What...?” she shook her head in disbelief - her emotions suddenly welling up all at once and causing the tears to brim in her eyes. “What... you just happen to have an engagement ring in your pocket?”

Harm calmly shrugged again. “I wanted to be prepared. You were ready to marry Brumby. After he left, I didn’t want to risk losing my chance in case some other irritating Australian were to come along and catch your interest.”

The glint in his eye let her know he was teasing, but she didn’t really think it was possible to be mad at him at this particular moment.

“C’mon Sundance. Leap with me.” His expression suddenly changed to one of guilt and all confidence fled. “I know I’m far from perfect... but...”

She snaked her arms around his neck and leaned her forehead gently against his. “But I do love a good challenge.” She kissed him soundly then, and considered never stopping.

“Thank you, Sarah.” He whispered against her lips once they’d parted, and as he slipped the ring on her finger, he kissed the tear that tracked down her cheek. “I promise, I won’t let you down.”

She smiled a watery, cocky grin. “Oh, Sailor - you have no idea what you’re in for.”

“Maybe,” he teased. “But I can’t wait to find out.” The sound of approaching footsteps in the hallway caused them to quickly separate, but Harm couldn’t resist leaning forward and stealing one last, tender kiss. “See you in the river, Kid.” He winked conspiratorially. “Hope you’re a good swimmer.”

“The best.” She smiled as the XO stepped through the door.

“Hey. Glad to see you’re in the land of the living Commander. You gave us quite a scare there.” He turned and smiled in Mac’s direction. “Now, maybe you can finally help me persuade this lovely Colonel here to accompany me to dinner.”

For a moment, Sarah MacKenzie actually thought she could feel the rush of wind as the river raced up to meet her.


*********************** THE END ********************************

All there is to thinking is seeing something noticeable which makes you see something you weren't noticing which makes you see something that isn't even visible...
Eventually, all things merge into one,
and a river runs through it.” - Norman Maclean