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Match Point
Author: Pixie AN: O.K., folks, if this last part bothers you because it's so far "out there," I apologize. Blame it on the fact that waiting for the finale is making me a little crazy. Just put on your rose colored glasses with me and read on. :) AN: I honestly can't remember an episode where we've seen Harm in a traditional tux. If you do, bonus points to you. Try not to let my ignorance spoil your fun. AN: This is written in an alternating point of view. Mac's first, then Harm then…well, you get the idea…. Each POV change is set off by a line of *'s. Oh…and by the way…This really is the last part. No amount of begging will convince me otherwise. <grin>
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I hear the knock on my door and pause in my pacing to take a deep breath. I mustn't seem nervous. Mustn't let him know how much this night means to me. I gather my nerves into a tight bundle and stuff them firmly into a corner of my little toe with strict orders that they stay there for the night. Then I walk calmly to the door, proud of myself when I resist the urge to check the mirror one last time on the way. The door swings open easily, but my casual greeting disappears like chimney smoke when I see him. He's wearing a black tux. I've known Harm for eight years now, and never, in all that time, have I seen him in a tuxedo. The effect is stunning. For a moment, I'm convinced my voice has deserted me forever, and I have to swallow a couple of times before I can get it working again. Thankfully, he looks a little star struck himself so I don't think he notices. "Hey," I finally choke out, hoping that he doesn't notice the ragged edge to my voice or the way my lower jaw keeps trying to detach itself from my skull. "Hey yourself." His voice, deep, dusky, and full of forbidden promise, instantly frees my nerves from captivity, and they zoom up my legs, through my wobbly knees, and finally take up fluttering residence in the pit of my stomach. Somehow I suspect they're going to stay there for the rest of the night. It dawns on me then that we're staring at each other like a couple of love sick teenagers, and I step back from the open door. "Come on in. I just need to slip on my wrap." I don't realize he's behind me until he takes the delicate shawl out of my hands. He lays it across my shoulders, then drops his head to place a light kiss just behind my ear. A shiver ripples through me at the contact, and he turns me around to face him. "Cold?" "Just a chill. I'm fine." I have to break the tension in the room, have to get out of here before I decide that I couldn't care less what he has planned for the evening. Maybe he senses my feelings, and maybe he's a little off balance himself, because he steps back and drops his hands to his sides. "Are you ready to go?" "Sure am."
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Sarah Mackenzie in formal wear is always an incredible sight. Sarah Mackenzie in formal wear for me is downright mind boggling. When she first opened the door in that low cut midnight blue gown, I wanted to sling her over my shoulder and head for the nearest bedroom. Luckily, I managed to control my desire while I helped her with her shawl, but I couldn't resist the urge to taste the soft skin of her neck. It was a mistake. I realized it when I breathed in the distinctive light scent of the bath salts I gave her. I have to get us out of here soon, or risk ruining all my careful plans. I realize I'm holding my breath as I guide her out the front door of her apartment building. I want this evening to be perfect, so I'm pulling out all the stops, but now I find myself wondering if I've overdone it. Oh well, it's too late to change things now. She stops suddenly, a puzzled look on her face, and I smile to myself. I know she's looking for the Lexus, but it isn't here. Her confusion communicates itself to me through the soft skin at her back and I realize that my hand has taken up residence there without my conscious knowledge or permission. I exert a gentle pressure, turning her in the direction of my next surprise, and I feel the exact moment when she figures it out. Her eyes dart up to mine in stunned surprise. "Too much?" I'm a little nervous, and I know she hears it in my voice. "Harm, it's…" She hesitates, and I worry until I see that the look on her face isn't anger, it's pleasure. "Nobody's ever rented a limo just to take me on a date before." I resist the urge to bring up Webb's name. He has no place in tonight's activities. "It's our first real date, Mac. I wanted to do something special." I shrug it off, but my heart swells when she gives me a gentle smile before moving toward the car. I move ahead of her to open the door, then hand her inside with a sigh of relief. One surprise successfully navigated. I try not to think about the ones still ahead. I climb in beside her and close the door, stretching my legs out in front of me with a pleased sigh. One of my favorite things about limousines is the leg room. The car slips smoothly into traffic and I'm glad that I showed the driver where we were going before we came over here. It'd ruin everything if he got lost now. Now that we're on our way, I reach into the tiny refrigerator and bring out the chilled bottle of sparkling cider, pleased when I see amused pleasure on her face. Without a word, I pour two glasses, stopper the bottle, and return it to the cooler. I hand one of the glasses to her, and touch the edge of my own to it in a subtle toast. "To new beginnings," I say quietly. She smiles at me, takes a sip, and relaxes into the seat beside me. I try hard not to read too much into the fact that, though there's plenty of room in the car, she's right next to me, our arms and legs brushing against each other with each movement we make.
********************** We spend the travel time talking quietly about anything and everything, and I find I'm almost disappointed when I feel the big car slide to a gentle stop. Before I can move, I feel Harm's hand on my arm. "Do you trust me?" he asks. What kind of a question is that? When have I ever not trusted this man? "Of course I do." "Glad to hear it." His smile is teasing, but before I can ask him what he's up to, I feel something soft slip over my head, and the world disappears. I automatically reach up to pull it away, but he stops me with a gentle touch. "I thought you said you trusted me," he says, laughter in his voice. "Harm," I shake my head, would've rolled my eyes if I could've. "This is silly." "Humor me." I sigh and give in, curious to find out what he's up to now. The blindfold has the altogether fascinating effect of narrowing my experience to one of touch, scent, and sound. Suddenly, I'm excruciatingly aware of his touch on my skin as he guides me out of the car to stand next to him. There's a whispered conversation between him and, I assume, the limo driver. Then doors slam, and the car pulls away. While I wait to see what happens next, I breathe deeply, inhaling the smells of the late spring evening. "You ready?" His deep voice tickles my ear and skips down my spine. "I am if you are," I say, delighting in the feel of his arm when it comes around my shoulders. He guides me forward, his low voice occasionally warning me about a potential hazard, but mostly, we're both quiet. In a few short minutes, we come to a stop and I hear him take a deep breath. "Wait," he says, and I sense him moving away. I stand quietly, certain he's not going far. Before I can think too much about it, I hear soft music coming from somewhere, and then he's back by my side. "O.K., I'm going to take this off now." I feel the fabric slip away from my eyes, and open them to a sight I'd only ever seen in the movies. ********************** I hold my breath when I release the blindfold, once again worried that she'll think I've completely lost my mind. I watch her look around, taking in the small table set with china and crystal, the sparkling cider chilling in its stand nearby, and, finally, the dozens of blooming rose bushes that surround us. When she finally turns to me, her smile and the bright tears in her eyes make all the hard work worth it. "How…?" "I had a little help from Harriet. Her parents know people who know people who…" I shrug. "Someone in the chain of acquaintances owns this property. They agreed to let us borrow the garden for a few hours." "It's beautiful." "It isn't the White House rose garden, but it'll have to do." "Harm." She waits until I'm looking at her before she goes on. "I don't understand." "What don't you understand?" I keep my voice low. She gestures to me, to the table, and to the surroundings. "Why all this fuss? It's just us. We've known each other for years. I don't need all this." I look at her standing before me, her hair shining in the glow of the garden torches, and I'm momentarily amazed that I should have to explain this to her. "It isn't 'just us' Mac. Not anymore. We finally have a chance to explore a new possibility, and I want to do it right." "But Harm…." I stop her with a gentle finger to her lips. The move is impulsive on my part, but when I see her eyes widen slightly I know she feels the same electricity that I do. I drop my hand back to my side and swallow hard before I speak. "Let me do this, Mac. Let me show you what I've never been able to tell you." I can't believe I had the nerve to phrase it exactly like that, but the words are out now, hovering between us like so many delicate fireflies. For several seconds, she doesn't say anything, then she gives me a warm smile and I release a sigh of relief. "What's for dinner?" she asks. ********************** I can't believe the trouble Harm has gone to for this night. All he'd told me beforehand was that it would be a formal evening. I thought maybe the symphony or a play. I never would've guessed this. I take a sip of water and my eyes meet his across the table. We've been laughing about something that happened in court, and his eyes are still sparkling with humor. The sight warms my heart and makes me tingle through and through. I've missed this. The back and forth banter that used to be so much a part of our relationship has been missing this year. We're starting to get it back now that we finally seem to be back on the same wavelength about our relationship, and I'm grateful to have it back at the same time I'm sad that we ever lost it. "Mac?" His voice, tinged with concern, brings me back to the present. "What are you thinking about?" "I was just thinking how we used to be able to talk like this all the time. I missed that this year." He reaches across the table and takes my hand, rubbing his thumb absently back and forth across my knuckles. "I missed it, too." He looks up at me, meets my eyes for a second, and then looks back down at our joined hands. "It got pretty rocky there for a while, didn't it." I can't help laughing at his understatement. "You might say that." "We survived, though." "Yeah." I smile at him. "We did." I wipe my mouth with my napkin, then lay it beside my plate. The meal has been one of the best I've ever tasted. I'll have to ask him where it came from. Not tonight, though. Tonight I just want to treasure the time we have together. I relax back into my chair and let the music from cleverly hidden speakers wash over me. I'm unaware that I've begun to tap my foot until I see him push his chair out and come to stand beside me. When he holds his hand out in invitation, I raise an eyebrow. He wants to dance? Here? "You're joking, right?" I ask, somehow already certain that he's completely serious. "Come on, Mac. It's been ages since we've danced together." He gives me one of those smiles I have such a hard time resisting. "As I recall, you're pretty light on your feet." How's a girl supposed to resist an invitation like that? I put my hand in his and move into his arms, not even attempting to suppress my sigh of pleasure at the feel of those arms around me. We move easily together, both of us comfortable with the smooth cadence of the waltz, and I lose myself in the moment, unwilling to even consider that it might ever end. I'm drifting now, floating through the soft evening air in the arms of a handsome man, only vaguely aware of the music that gives rhythm to our steps. Several minutes pass before it dawns on me that our movements have slowed and our bodies have drawn closer together until now we're barely moving. My head has found its way to a comfortable resting place on his chest. His arms, one wrapped around my waist, the other cradling my shoulders, envelop me in safety and security. I'm so utterly at peace, so completely happy, that the words that slip out of my mouth go with my blessing. "Do you know that I love you?" He pulls back slightly so that he can see my face, and I know that he's checking to make sure he heard me properly. "Is that so?" he asks, and I catch the smile that warms his eyes just before he pulls me close again. "Yeah," I say, feeling completely unwilling to play games right now. "That's so." When he speaks again, I feel the words rumble through his chest before I hear them. "I'm glad to hear that." We continue to move gently to the music, and several moments pass before I feel him press a light kiss against the top of my head. "I love you, too, you know." It's my turn to pull back, and I look up at him with a half smile of my own. "Is that so?" I ask, giving his words back to him. "Yeah," he answers. Then he drops his head and takes my lips in a kiss that flows through my veins like molten lava, bringing every nerve ending tingling to life with its passage. The kiss goes on and on as we take the time to explore pleasures forbidden to us for eight long years. When he at last pulls back so that he can see my face, we're both a little flushed, and we struggle to catch out breath. ********************** I look down at Mac, taking in her heavy lidded eyes and quickened breathing. The kiss got away from us both, and I know I need to step back; give us each a little room to get ourselves back under control. I can't seem to let her go, though. My arms refuse to release her despite my best efforts. The fact of the matter is, I've waited too long for the right to hold her like this, and I want to treasure every moment, but I don't want to push. The last thing I want is for her to think that this has all been some grand seduction scene. That isn't what it is at all. "Mac…" My voice is husky despite my best efforts. "Hmm?" Her voice, soft and dreamy, almost makes me swoop in for another kiss, but I slam on the emergency brake and say what needs to be said before I make a mistake that could doom this from the start. "I think it's time to go." "Must we?" Her smile is a little wistful, and I return it, feeling exactly the same way. "We must." She gestures around us at the remains of our meal. "Shouldn't we clean up first?" Leave it to Mac, ever the practical one, to think of that. "It's taken care of." "Oh." I realize by the tinge of disappointment in her voice that she'd been hoping to put off ending the evening for a few more minutes. "Come on, Cinderella. It's almost midnight. You don't want to see me turn into a pumpkin, do you?" That makes her laugh, but she takes the hand I've offered to her and we begin the short trek to the street while she answers me. "I think you've got your fairy tales a little skewed, Harm." "Oh well." I shrug. "You got the message, didn't you?" "Yes. I got the message." She tugs me to a stop and looks up at me, her expression serious. "You'll never be less than a prince in my book though – fairy tale or no fairy tale." I stare at her for a minute. Those words were so totally unlike the no nonsense marine I've known for all these years that I'm temporarily speechless. "Close your mouth, Flyboy. You're liable to end up eating a mosquito or something." She turns and walks away from me, and I close my mouth with an almost audible snap before moving quickly to catch up to her. The limousine is waiting by the curb, exactly according to plan, and I hand her inside before climbing in myself. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and draw her close, pleased when she rests her head on my chest. Neither of us speaks on the way back to her apartment. Words just aren't necessary. When we arrive, I help her out of the car, then walk her to her door. She unlocks it and looks up at me. "Do you want to come in for a while?" I know that she's offering more than a platonic cup of coffee, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested, but she needs to know something first. "Mac…" "Yes?" She looks worried now, and I hasten to ease her mind. "There's nothing I'd like more than to come in there right now, but you and I both know that if I do, it won't stop at a cup of coffee." "Well…yes, that's kind of what I'm hoping." When she says that, my noble instincts make a mad scramble for the nearest exit and I have to drag them back quickly before they make their escape. "I didn't do this, tonight, as some kind of elaborate seduction scene. You know that, don't you?" Her expression clears when she realizes why I'm hesitating. "Harm… I'm not inviting you in because of gratitude." "No?" "No." She meets my eyes, and when she goes on, I can hear the certainty in her voice. "I'm inviting you in because I want to." I swallow hard. The invitation she's extending to me is unmistakable, and the smile on her face tells me that she knows I won't be able to turn it down. When she reaches up and pulls me in for a kiss, I release my last frail grip on gentlemanly honor. She pulls back, takes my hand, and leads my unresisting self inside. While she closes the door, I flip open my cell phone long enough to send the limo away, practicalities handled, we move into each other's arms, home at last. Game
Set
Match
***** The End *****
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