Flashpoint
Author: Pixie Rating: PG Classification: Jag Story. Romance/Angst Spoilers: Anything's possible… Disclaimers: JAG and its characters are the sole property of DPB Productions. No copyright infringement is intended.
****** Part 6 ******
2230 Zulu (0730 Local) 121st Military General Hospital Seoul, South Korea
"I’d like you to move me down there. There’s an empty bed in her room, and you’ve already said you’re not going to discharge me today anyway." Harm paused in his argument, feeling like this just might be the most important case he’d ever have to fight. "Look, Doctor, I’m worried about her. If you’ll just move me downstairs, I promise to rest. Keep me here, and I’ll be up and down all day to check on her." Harm sat on the side of his bed glaring at Doctor Lee. The two of them had been discussing this for the past half hour. Doctor Lee could be remarkably stubborn, and he wasn’t sure it would be a good idea to put Harm and Mac together, not to even mention the fact that it was against hospital policy to put male and female patients in the same room. But Harm was convinced it was the best solution to everybody’s dilemma, and he stubbornly refused to consider any other option. He’d be resting, which would make the doctor happy, and he’d be able to keep an eye on Mac, which would make him happy. He wasn’t sure what Mac would think of his idea, but for the moment, he shoved the small warning voice aside. She needed someone to keep an eye on her, and whether she liked it or not, Harm was going to take the job. Doctor Lee sighed. "O.K., we’ll give it a try. But if this doesn’t work I’m moving you right back out." "Agreed." Harm smiled crookedly at the doctor. "It’ll work. I’m sure of it." "I hope you’re right." Doctor Lee grinned back. "You’re a difficult man to deny, you know that?" "So I’ve been told." The issue resolved, Harm consented to a wheelchair ride down to his new quarters, hoping his meek behavior would help to ease Doctor Lee’s mind about the wisdom of this decision. A few moments later, he was settled in the bed next to Mac’s, pointedly ignoring her questioning stare until after they were alone. "Hi," he said then. "How are you feeling?" "Better today. What are you doing here?" "The doctor wasn’t ready to release me yet, so I convinced him to move me down here so that I wouldn’t have to manage the stairs or the elevator every time I want to take a walk outside." Mac’s look turned suspicious and Harm knew she’d seen through his flimsy explanation. It didn’t matter, though. He was here now, and she wasn’t going to get rid of him by glaring at him. He leaned back against his pillows and looked pleasantly across at her. He’d been through too much during the past week to turn back now. He was tired of the games between them - tired of hiding his feelings behind playful banter or biting sarcasm. One way or another, they needed to hash things out, and he guessed this might be the only way to force that to happen. He’d finally gotten something important through his thick skull - finally realized that nothing lasts forever. He’d been given a second chance here, and he was determined not to screw it up this time. He wouldn’t push, though. He’d wait and see what Mac did. He finally knew what he wanted, and he was willing to do whatever it would take to get it. Mac turned back to the window, silent for a long time. Finally, she turned back to him. "I don’t…" She paused, gathering her thoughts. "I don’t remember much about what happened." Harm wondered if she even knew that two men had died that day, but waited to see where she was going with her line of thought. He wouldn’t give her that bit of information until she asked for it. "Do you want to talk about what you do remember?" She was quiet again for a long time, and Harm began to think she wasn’t going to answer him. Finally, she spoke. "It was a beautiful morning. I remember thinking about how blue the sky was." She looked at him. "How is it possible that something so awful can happen on such a beautiful day?" Harm didn’t answer her, aware that the question was a rhetorical one. "We drove up to the tree and climbed out of the truck. Those of us on guard detail formed a sort of loose half circle around the tree. I remember I was between Captain Belzer and Lieutenant Harrison. I watched the workmen set up their ladder and climb up. Everything seemed fine. Then I looked across the bridge and saw a group of North Koreans coming towards us. They didn’t seem hostile, and I didn’t see any weapons…." Mac paused, thinking again. Then, "They must have had them hidden somehow." She seemed a little puzzled for a minute, and then she went on. "Anyway, the soldiers didn’t act threatening, so I thought maybe they just wanted to make sure we weren’t going to cut down the whole tree. I turned to watch the workmen, but when one of them started to saw on the first branch, the leader of the North Korean group got angry. He ordered us to stop what we were doing." Mac stopped talking again, and turned to stare back out the window. Harm swung his legs over the side of his bed and stood up, crossing to Mac’s side. Gently, he turned her face back towards him, forcing her to meet his eyes. "It wasn’t your fault, Mac." She dropped her eyes and pulled away from him. "Captain Belzer asked my opinion. I…told him he was within his legal rights to continue the work." Absently, she plucked at a corner of her sheet, folding and unfolding it again and again. Gently, Harm captured her hand and stilled it, waiting patiently for her to continue. "He ordered the men to keep working. Didn’t even look at the PKA lieutenant. I was watching, though. I saw the man take off his watch and wrap it in a handkerchief. By the time it dawned on me what was happening, it was too late. He yelled something in Korean, and all hell broke loose." She turned her eyes up to Harm, her own full of unshed tears. "I didn’t know, Harm. I didn’t see the knives and ax handles they had hidden up their sleeves and inside the waist bands of their pants - never guessed that they would go completely crazy like that." "There’s no way you could have known, Mac. Don’t beat yourself up over this." "After that," she said, "things got desperate. There were so many of them – thirty maybe? Anyway, at least twice as many as we had, and they’d made an end run around the no-weapons rule. I couldn’t believe it, but I didn’t have time to even think about it then. I just reacted. They went after Captain Belzer, first. Guess they thought they’d make a point by taking out our command officer." She turned back to the window. "He didn’t make it, did he?" she asked. "No, Mac. I’m afraid not." "I tried to help him. I remember they dragged Belzer down to the ground and five or six of them ganged up on him. I took two of them down before somebody grabbed my arm and spun me around. That must be when this happened." She indicated her arm. "It was the man who had ordered the attack. He laughed. I was so dumbfounded, I didn’t even see the ax handle until it was too late to avoid it." She shook her head angrily, "I don’t know what got into me. I know better than to allow myself to be distracted like that." Harm winced on her behalf, his anger mounting all over again. He knew Mac would resent his protective response, though, and he fought it down, waiting patiently for her to go on. "I remember a blast of agonizing pain. I’ve never felt anything like it in my life. I vaguely remember feeling grass against my cheek, and then…nothing." She finally looked back at Harm. "Nothing until I woke up here two days ago." Harm sat down on the edge of her bed to tell her what had happened since she’d been injured. Her hand still rested in his, and he lightly rubbed his thumb across it while he talked, pleased when she didn’t pull away. He started with the phone call in the middle of the night when he’d first heard the news, and continued through his flight to Korea, his first visit to the hospital, and the awful fear that she wouldn’t make it. He told her about the meeting with the Joint Chiefs and the ultimate decision to cut down the tree during Operation George Washington. He concluded with his encounter with Lieutenant Kim two nights ago. Mac shook her head at his description of the dismantling of the explosives. "I guess they don’t want a war any more than we do," she said. "Apparently not," Harm answered. "Or at least, not this week." "I’m sorry that you had to deal with Lieutenant Kim. That should have been my job." "In case you didn’t notice, Mac, you weren’t exactly up to defending your honor." Mac glared at him, and Harm grinned, glad to see her fighting spirit reasserting itself. "Any idea how long it’ll take you to get up and about?" "Not really," she answered. "The therapist is being remarkably evasive. She says it could take anywhere from a few weeks to a few months." "Well, I’ll be with you every step of the way. We’ll get through this, Mac. You won’t have to do it alone." Mac looked at him curiously. "Why not?" "Why not what?" "Why won’t I have to do it alone? It’s not as though you’re under any obligation here." Harm looked at her, stalling for time. Was he ready for this? "You know the reason." Mac glared at him and turned back to the window. He’d chickened out again, and she was furious. He could see it in the set of her shoulders and in the stubborn angle of her jaw. He considered his options. He could leave it at that, and wait for a better time to have this conversation, thereby risking losing her forever…. Or he could jump off the cliff and tell her he loved her, also risking losing her forever. Either way, he was quite possibly doomed. He decided that inaction might be slightly more dangerous than action, took a deep breath, and leaped into freefall. "Mac, I’ve never been as scared as I was when I got the call that you’d been hurt. My world came crashing down around me. When Doctor Lee asked my permission to perform your surgery, he told me you might not survive it, and I swore that if you made it through this, I’d do whatever it took to make things right between us." "Right?" she questioned, not quite meeting his eyes. "Right how?" "Right as in I’d finally work up the courage to tell you how much you mean to me. Mac, I lost count of the number of times I thought you were lost to me over the past week. Fear and worry had me so tied up in knots that I was barely able to function. It got so bad at one point that the admiral took drastic action. He called me ‘son’ and asked how I was holding up!" Mac snickered. "You’re joking, right?" "I wish I was!" he smiled back. "And to add insult to injury, General Singleton went out of his way to make my life a living hell - no doubt thinking that if he could make me mad enough he’d be able to single-handedly keep me sane. Luckily, it worked. But it was a close call." He sobered, and his grip tightened on her hand, causing her to look up at him curiously. "Mac, I lived through the longest and most terrifying five minutes of my life when they took you off that respirator and you didn’t start to breathe right away. In fact, you took a damnably long time about it. I’d already told Doctor Lee that if you didn’t breathe on your own, he should let you go, because I knew you wouldn’t want to spend your life in some hospital ward, chained to a bunch of machinery. But Mac, if you hadn’t finally inhaled, I don’t know if I could have let you go." He paused and took a breath. "The worst part, the thing that made me absolutely crazy, was the fact that I couldn’t even be here with you when they did it. I was stuck up at Liberty Bell under lockdown conditions because we didn’t know what the North Koreans would do next!" The look in her eyes as she continued to stare at him was one that he didn’t dare try to define. Instead, he kept going, needing to say all of it before his courage ran out. "You made it through, though. Somehow you pulled it together and came back to me. I don’t know how you did it, and frankly I don’t care. I’m just unbelievably glad that you did." He stopped, finally running out of steam, but Mac’s next words let him know that she still didn’t get it. Still didn’t understand what he was trying to communicate to her in his typically clumsy way. "Harm. You have other friends. There’s Sturgis, and Bud and Harriet. You’ve got Mattie now, too. Surely you would have survived." "Mac…Sarah…you’re not hearing what I’m trying to say to you. I can’t decide if it’s because I’m saying it badly, or because you’re deliberately goading me, but it doesn’t really matter. There’s a reason why these past ten days have been so hellish for me. A reason why I’ve been out of my mind with worry. You can’t guess what it is?" "No." She pinned him with her eyes, silently demanding the answers that had waited too long to be spoken. "I can’t guess, Harm. And I won’t try. You’re going to have to explain it to me." Harm stared at her. Could he do this? Could he reach down deep inside himself and pull out the words that would give her power over his very soul? He’d never done it before. Never told a woman other than his mother that he loved her. To do so would be to set that woman up for the same kind of pain and loss that his mother had suffered, and every fiber of his being fought against that. Then, somewhere in the back of his mind, a tiny light bulb flickered to life. It dawned on him that the act of saying the words wouldn’t really change anything. Putting a name to his feelings was only the clasp on a golden chain. You had to have it in order to complete the circle, but it didn’t inherently change the chain itself. He and Mac were already too closely connected to avoid emotional pain if something should go horribly wrong. When he’d heard about her injuries, he hadn’t stopped to think about whether or not she’d ever said she’d loved him. He’d reacted out of his own love for her. The words themselves were only the label, an acknowledgement of what his heart had known for years. His belief that refusing to speak them would somehow protect her from pain was like thinking a sheet of paper would hold back a tidal wave. He took a deep breath and plunged ahead, hoping that the words he was about to say would not cause his precipitous leap off the cliff to result in emotional splatters on the canyon floor.
"Sarah, these have been the worst ten days of
my life. I didn’t know from one moment to the next whether or not you would
make it, and I spent the entire time kicking myself for the fact that I’d never
found the courage to tell you I love you. Instead, I fought it. I kept you at
arm’s length, determined not to let you get too close." "Why what?" "Why fight it?" "Because when you love somebody, you hurt them, and sometimes they hurt you. Love is a dangerous thing. It ties you to a person in ways nothing else does. Look at my mother. She loved my dad, and she never recovered from losing him. I wouldn’t do that to you if I could help it." Harm was startled at Mac’s reaction to his words. "You big lug!" she said, somehow finding the strength to clobber him with her pillow. "Ow! What was that for?" "You still don’t get it, do you." "Umm… apparently not." Mac looked at him in disbelief. "We have got to work on our communication skills, you know that?" She sighed. "May I have my pillow back?" Harm picked up the errant pillow and helped Mac lean forward so that he could place it comfortably behind her head. She smiled gratefully and relaxed into it, looking at him for a long time before speaking again. "Do you remember when Dalton was murdered?" "Of course." "I turned to you that night. I could have called the admiral, or dealt with it alone. But I didn’t. I called you." She adjusted her blanket, grimacing when her ribs complained, and then went on. "Do you remember when Chris died?" "Yes." "I called you then, too. What about when Mic called off our engagement?" This time she didn’t wait for his answer. "I called you from the airport. I didn’t even wait to get back home." "I don’t understand what you’re getting at, Mac. We’re friends. Of course you called me." "Harm… I have other friends. I could have called Bud, or Harriet, or any of half a dozen other people. But I didn’t. I called you. Now why do you suppose that is?" "I’d like to think it’s because you trust me." "That’s just it. I do. I trust you with my life. Surely you know by now how difficult that is for me?" "I don’t know, Mac. How difficult is it?" It was Harm’s turn to push. She looked at him solemnly for a moment, her eyes conveying a message he couldn’t quite interpret. "Sometimes I feel like everybody I’ve ever cared about has let me down. Chris only loved me for what he could get from me. Dalton only loved me because I looked good on his arm. And Mic…Well, Mic was a good man. He tried to love me for who I was but he kept stumbling over you along the way." "What do you mean?" "I think he knew, or at least sensed, that I couldn’t help comparing him to you." "Why?" He fought down the twinge of hope from somewhere in the vicinity of his heart, and pushed a little harder. "Why did you compare him to me, Mac?" Instead of answering him directly, she changed tactics, and it took him a moment to catch up. "Do you remember what I said to the judge at Mattie’s custody hearing?" "About me being the kind of man you’d like to have as a father to your children?" "Yes." "What about it? That only spoke to my potential as a parent. Nothing more." Mac sighed again. "I’m having trouble with this." Harm treated her to one of his trademark grins, one eyebrow raised. "I know how you feel." She glared at him halfheartedly. He really was cute when he did that, but the bugger of it was, he knew it. "What I’m trying to get to, in a hopelessly fragmented way, is the fact that I don’t trust people easily. I’ve spent a lifetime perfecting my armour, link by careful link. And yet somehow you keep slipping past it. Once, I dared hope that we could be more than friends. I opened a window and invited you in, but for whatever reason, you backed away." "Mac, we’ve been over that. I never meant to push you away. I only meant to ask you for more time." "Time. That’s what it always comes back to, doesn’t it?" Harm didn’t answer, sensing that she was on her own emotional cliff right now, and that rescuing her would be the worst thing he could do…for both of them. "You know, Harm, when I woke up alone, I was hurt. I thought you didn’t care enough to visit me even though you were up at Liberty Bell. I couldn’t understand it because I thought we had come to mean something to each other." She raised a hand, stopping his instant response. "No. Let me finish." She took a sip of water before continuing. "Then Mitsie told me how you had visited and called all the time, and how Doctor Lee let you use his cell phone. I realized then that although you’d never been able to put it into words, you really do care for me." "Um… yeah.. I think I just said that, Mac. The question is, how do you feel about me?" "Ask Sturgis." "What?" His total puzzlement would have made her laugh if there weren’t so much at stake right now. "Two years ago, I told him exactly how I felt about you." "Wait. You told him, but not me?" "I couldn’t tell you, Harm. I was pretty certain you didn’t want me as anything more than a friend." "You were wrong." "I know that now, but back then…well, things just weren’t so clear." Harm sighed. That was an understatement, and he knew it. And their relationship hadn’t exactly been turbulence free since then, either. "So tell me, Mac. What does Sturgis know that I don’t?" He held his breath, almost afraid to hope. "Two years ago, he and I worked the Aiken case together. Do you remember it? "I remember Sturgis being rather… frustrated by your psychic abilities." "That’s right. Anyway, at one point, we were talking in my office and he mentioned that there seemed to be some tension between you and I. I took it to mean that he thought we were sleeping together. Needless to say, I set him straight in a hurry." She glanced at Harm and then away. "He said that maybe the fact that we hadn’t slept together was our problem." "You’re joking, right?" "No." "I’m going to kill him." "No need." A smile teased the corners of her mouth. "I set him straight." "Oh? How did you do that?" "I told him I was in love with you." Silence. Harm could have sworn he heard the thud of his jaw hitting the floor, and he rubbed it automatically, making sure it was still firmly attached to his skull. "Mac… Two years? Why didn’t you ever tell me?" "It was just…never the right time." She shrugged self consciously, the movement jostling her shoulder and causing her to catch her breath. "I fought it. I didn’t think you wanted me, but it didn’t seem to matter what I did. The feelings were there, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it." She stopped, and when she looked up at him, there were tears in her eyes. He ached with the knowledge that he had put them there, and reached gently to wipe them away. She caught his hand, and brought it to her lips, kissing it lightly before tucking it under her chin. When she spoke again, it was with a self deprecating smile. "Don’t you see? It doesn’t matter what you say or do. You can’t control how I’m going to feel about anything. You can’t make me stop loving you just by refusing to tell me that you love me, too. It doesn’t work that way, Harm. Never has. Never will." Harm looked at her, a grin spreading across his face. "It doesn’t, does it." "No. It doesn’t." "So… can I ask you a question?" "Sure." "Can I kiss you?" "I think you’d better." Harm smiled and gently brushed away the tears that had reappeared at the corners of Mac’s eyes. "I do love you, you know." "I do now," she said, her words trailing off into silence as he gently covered her lips with his own, showing her with his touch what he had finally found the courage to put into words. The kiss was tender, sweet, and so gentle that it brought tears to Mac’s eyes all over again. When it ended, and Harm pulled back, it was only far enough to look into her dark eyes. "How do you feel about teenagers?" he asked, teasingly. "I’ve got one I’d love to share with you." Mac laughed, then cringed when her ribs and shoulder complained. She waited for the pain to subside before speaking again. "Well, I was one, once, so I think I can manage as long as you’re along to keep me on the straight and narrow." "You couldn’t lose me if you tried." They smiled at one another, and as Harm looked at her he was reminded all over again of how precious she was to him and how incredibly relieved he was to have been given this chance to make things right. He sent a silent prayer of thanks winging to the heavens and carefully gathered her in for a tender hug, mindful of her injuries. They sat that way for a few moments, neither willing to put distance between them, and when they heard the door open, Harm took his time sitting up. He didn’t let go of Mac’s hand, though. He didn’t care if the President himself walked into the room right now. He was hers, and she was his, and the rest of the world had better damned well get used to the idea. When he did turn, it was to see Admiral A.J. Chegwidden leaning against the door jam, a rare grin on his face. "Looks like you two are feeling better…" he said sardonically, moving to stand at the foot of Mac’s bed. "Anything I need to know about?" Harm and Mac looked at each other and smiled, but it was Harm who answered. "Well, Sir, there may be soon, but at the moment, everything’s just fine." A.J. snorted uncharacteristically. "Somehow I suspect life at JAG is about to get even more interesting than it already is, and I’m not sure that’s a good thing." "Sir, we’ll keep it out of the office," Mac said. Harm nodded. "You’d better believe you will." The admiral changed the subject then. He looked at Rabb, an unreadable expression on his face. "Well, Rabb, it looks like you saved the day again." "Sir?" "The North Koreans have suddenly become remarkably quiet people. There’ve been no threats, no protestations of innocence, just silence. The Joint Duty Officer delivered a short message yesterday apologizing for what they referred to as the ‘misguided though well-intentioned actions of a single officer acting without orders from his superiors.’ Since then, things have settled down admirably. Camp Liberty Bell is no longer locked down, and our troops are returning to their regular duties. You’ll have some reports to file, as will you, Mac, as soon as you’re able, and then it should be about time to come back to the states. I imagine that’s ok with you two?" "Yes, Sir," Harm and Mac answered, almost simultaneously. They smiled and A.J. shook his head. "You two are entirely too cheerful for my peace of mind. I’m going to get out of here and head back to the base to tie up a few loose ends. Then I’ll be heading back to Falls Church. Harm, I expect you back in the office as soon as you wrap things up here. I imagine that’ll take you a week or two, by which time Major Nillson should be back from leave." He looked across at Mac. "I spoke with your doctor a few minutes ago. He tells me he thinks you’ll make a complete recovery." "I hope so, Sir." "So do I, Mac. Take your time, but hurry up. We need you back at JAG." Mac laughed. "Yes, Sir." The admiral sobered. "There’s a memorial service for the two men who were killed the day you were injured, Mac. I imagine you’d like to be there?" "Yes, Sir. I would." "I thought so. I’ll speak with your doctors and see if we can’t get you an afternoon’s freedom. I won’t be able to be there. Rabb, you’ll provide transportation, I imagine?" "Yes, Sir. Absolutely," said Harm. "I’ll make sure General Singleton is aware of that. I imagine he’ll wait to schedule the service until Mac and the others who were injured are cleared to attend." "Thank you, Sir," said Mac, and the admiral nodded. "Right, then. I’m off. Harm, step into the hall with me for a moment." "Yes, Sir." Harm exchanged puzzled looks with Mac before following A.J. out of the room. After the door closed, A.J. looked at Harm. "They’re probably going to spring you tomorrow. You need to get back to Camp Liberty Bell when they do." "Sir, Mac’s having some problems with what happened…" "I imagine she is. There’s nothing I can do, though. They need legal counsel out there, and you’re all I’ve got to offer at the moment." "Is that an order, Sir?" "Do I need to make it one?" Harm sighed. Much as he wanted to be with Mac, he knew his duty had to come first. "No, Sir." "Good." Harm wondered for a moment why the admiral had needed to have this discussion outside of Mac’s hearing. A.J. didn’t waste any more time enlightening him. "Rabb." "Sir?" "You’d better not screw this up. Mac’s a good woman. She deserves a man who appreciates that." "I know that, Sir." Harm felt slightly defensive, but was aware that the admiral’s warning was not wholly undeserved. "You mess with her – let your insecurities or your Peter Pan syndrome or whatever the hell you want to call it – cause you to do something stupid, and you’ll not only have her mad at you, I’ll be on your case faster than a stealth bomber. Do you understand me?" Harm, slightly taken aback, nevertheless nodded. "Yes, Sir." "You’d better." He paused for a moment, then smiled. "And this conversation never happened. If Mac found out…" He left the thought unfinished. They both knew what Mac would do, and it wouldn’t be pretty. "Now get back in there. Right now, you’re probably the best medicine there is for what ails her." "Yes, Sir. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks." "You’d better." A.J. turned and left, and Harm returned to Mac. "What was that all about?" she asked curiously. "Not much. He just wanted to let me know they’re going to release me tomorrow and to tell me I needed to get back to Camp Liberty Bell." "Hmm…" She looked skeptical, but she didn’t press the issue, changing the subject, instead. "He said something about the memorial service being in honor of two soldiers, Harm. Why didn’t you tell me?" "I figured you’d ask when you were ready." "Who was the other one?" "Lieutenant Harrison." Mac’s face paled, and Harm reached toward her, but she waved him off. "No. I can handle this, Harm. Don’t start assuming that I’m going to fall apart at the drop of a hat just because you told me you love me." "I wouldn’t dare." "Good. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like a few minutes alone." "Sure. I’ll take a walk or something." "You do that." Harm left her and took a long walk around the hospital, glad he had had the foresight to change out of his hospital gown. The gowns here were just like gowns everywhere - open at the back, and made of cotton that had worn so thin as to be almost transparent. Twenty minutes later, he returned to the room to find Mac composed and dry eyed. "How’re you doing?" he asked. "I’m fine, Harm." "You sure?" He received a glare for his concern, and decided it might be wise to settle quietly into his own bed for a while. Besides, it’d win him brownie points with Doctor Lee, and somehow he thought maybe he could use a few extras. He looked over at Mac, but she had turned to stare out the window again. He decided he’d have to take a look himself, soon. Despite his intention to entertain himself with a book until Mac decided she was ready to talk, he found he couldn’t keep his eyes open. He must have slept, because when next he looked up it was to see Mac smiling indulgently at him. "What’s so funny?" "You." "What’d I do?" "Do you know you snore?" "I do not!" He was indignant. "Yes. You do." Her grin was impish and unrepentant. Luckily, Dr. Lee walked in just then, and Harm was saved from having to defend his honor in a more physical manner which, though he was certain it would have been immensely enjoyable, probably would have been frowned upon by the good doctor. He settled for a warning glare instead, frustrated when she laughed at him instead of looking properly chastised. Doctor Lee closed the curtain between the beds and spent several minutes with each of his patients. He checked Harm’s dressing, pleased that there appeared to have been no further bleeding. "I think we’ll let you out of here tomorrow, Commander. You’ll be free to return to the base on restricted duty until those stitches come out." "Thanks." "No problem. Any questions for me? Have you had any problems…concerns?" "No, Sir." "Glad to hear it. If you need anything else today, just press the call button. Otherwise, I don’t expect to see you again until just before we release you tomorrow morning." "Sounds good." "All right, then. Time to check on my other patient." "Take good care of her, Doc." "Haven’t I always?" Doctor Lee smiled. "Yes. You have. And for that you have my deepest gratitude." Harm was serious, and Doctor Lee bowed his head once in acceptance before moving to the other side of the curtain. Harm lay in his bed listening to the quiet murmurs, startled when he heard Mac’s soft cry of pain. He stiffened in alarm. "Mac?" There was a brief silence, and then, "Power down, Flyboy. I’m fine." "You sure?" "Will you stop Mother Henning me? You’re making me crazy!" "Yes, Ma’am!" He subsided against the pillows, frustrated. Sharing a room with her was proving to be harder than he’d thought it would be. It was several long minutes later when Doctor Lee finally pulled the curtain back. Harm was relieved to see that Mac really was fine, though she looked extremely annoyed. Harm decided maybe it would be a good thing to stall the doctor for a few minutes until the steam stopped coming out of her ears. Evidently, the doctor was on to his tricks though, because he didn’t cooperate. He strode briskly out of the room, and Mac barely waited until the door closed before letting him know just how irritated she was. "You’ve got to stop doing that, or this is never going to work." "What?" He tried to look innocent. Unfortunately, Mac wasn’t buying it. "Stop hovering over me like I’m some kind of… I don’t know….ancient Japanese pottery or something." "Japanese pottery?" Harm stifled a grin. That was a rather unusual simile. He wondered at its origin. Mac sighed. "You know what I mean. I’m no more likely to break now than I was two weeks ago, so you can stop treating me like I am." Harm’s mood abruptly turned serious, and he swung his legs out of the bed again, moving over to her and waiting for her to meet his eyes before he spoke. "Things have changed, Mac." She sighed. "Admitting that we love each other doesn’t change things that much, Harm. I’m still perfectly capable of taking care of myself." "That’s not what I was referring to." "Well…. What then?" She looked puzzled. "I’ve been made intimately aware of how quickly things can go wrong – how easy it would be to lose you. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to give me some time to work through that, and until I do, you’ll probably have to deal with me being a bit overprotective." Mac reached up to him, and Harm caught her hand, holding it protectively against his chest. He decided he liked having the right to do this. Her hand, so much smaller and more delicate than his, felt wonderful in his own larger one. "Harm," she said, drawing his attention from her hand back to her face. "I’m ok." "I know that," he answered. "At least, my head does. My heart still has its doubts." "Well, I guess we’ll just have to convince it, then, won’t we." He smiled gently down at her. "I guess we will." "I can handle that." "Good thing." "Why’s that?" "Because I don’t think my mind can convince it all by itself. It needs some help." "Ahh… well, as long as I’m needed…." "You’re needed, Mac. You’re definitely needed." She smiled at him, and Harm found himself hating hospital beds. He wanted nothing more than to squeeze in beside her and hold her all night long, but there was no way both of them were going to fit. He glared at the offending furniture, and Mac laughed. "Problem, Harm?" He sighed. "Yeah." She ran her hand down the length of his arm and took his hand in her own. Tugging him closer, she spoke in a low voice guaranteed to notch his frustration to a fever pitch. "I won’t be stuck here forever, Harm, and I fully intend to make up for lost time just as soon as possible." Harm was startled at her seductive tone, but more than willing to take up its challenge. "I’m looking forward to that," he smiled. "You should be." Her eyes sparkled up at him impishly, and he leaned closer, his face just inches away from hers, his voice low and full of promise. "You should be, too…" He needed to touch her. Needed to feel her smooth skin against his own. Gliding his fingertips across the softness of her face, he reached to cradle her neck with his right hand, his thumb caressing a spot just below her ear. Her eyes darkened and then drifted closed as he eased forward, taking her mouth in a sensual kiss that spoke of love, passion, and a hint of erotic delights waiting to be discovered. He took his time, dancing his tongue lightly around the outer edges of her lips until she opened to him. Then, without breaking the kiss, he eased her into his arms, careful not to jostle her ribs or shoulder, pleased when she responded by wrapping her hand around his neck and burying her fingers in the short thick hair at the back of his head. Only then, with Mac’s delightfully feminine form snuggled close against him, did Harm slide into her welcoming warmth, pleased when she met him, her tongue teasing his in a playful duel that had the effect of a lit match on gasoline. He deepened the kiss, exploring the secret corners of her mouth at a leisurely pace that nevertheless had her heartbeat leaping like a delicate bird against his palm. For a few brief moments, Harm controlled the kiss completely, but Mac wasn’t about to let him off unscathed. She took over, slipping her tongue past his to run lightly across the edges of his teeth, testing the slippery smooth feel of them in a move that summoned a low groan from somewhere deep in Harm’s chest, which she answered with a murmur of satisfaction. She moved her hand from its position at the back of his head, evidently satisfied that he wasn’t going anyplace, and smoothed it down his arm before settling it lightly against his chest. Harm knew his racing heartbeat told her just how dangerously close to losing control he was, but he didn’t care. At the moment, all he cared about was Mac. A gasp of surprise and a crash of cutlery from the direction of the doorway brought an abrupt end to the kiss, the noise startling them apart. They looked toward the source of the sound in time to see a furiously blushing Mitsie scrambling to retrieve the scattered remnants of their dinner trays from the floor. "Oh. I’m so sorry," she said, her voice high pitched and breathless. "If I’d known…Well, I wouldn’t have just barged on in like that." She haphazardly stacked the dishes back on her tray, and stood, the awkward pile teetering dangerously. "I’ll just go get you some fresh meal trays." She backed out of the door and was gone. Harm looked at Mac, his expression only mildly contrite. "I guess we gave her something to think about, huh?" "Sailor, you gave ME something to think about," Mac smiled. "Trust me," he answered. "You gave as good as you got." Mac tried to look innocent, and failed miserably, causing Harm to grin. "Did you see the look on her face?" Mac asked, unrepentant. "Yes. The poor girl’s probably not going to be quite right for the rest of her shift." "Serves her right. I’ve never liked her anyway." "Mac…" "Well…. It’s true." They exchanged smiles, and Harm settled into a chair beside her bed, curious to see how long it would take Mitsie to return with their dinners. Mac turned the television on and navigated to a game show, evidently deciding a distraction of the non-physical kind was in order. Meanwhile, Harm waited for his heartbeat to slow and his body to return to normal, grateful that he’d had his back to Mitsie when she had so abruptly ended their kiss. It was several minutes before the young nurse returned, her face still faintly tinged with pink. She served them quickly and silently, her eyes refusing to meet theirs as she put the trays on their bedside tables and departed, closing the door silently behind her. Harm and Mac looked at each other, identical guilty grins on their faces. "We’re probably the talk of the floor by now, you know," Harm said. "I know. Doctor Lee will be glad to see the last of you tomorrow morning." Mac’s lips twitched. "Me! As I recall, you weren’t exactly an innocent bystander!" "Maybe," she smiled. "But I have an excuse. I’m an invalid, remember?" Harm snorted. "Invalid my…" "Harm…" "Hmmm?" "Kiss me." "Gladly." This time he kept the kiss light and teasing, not ready to tempt the fates by allowing it to get away from him again. That done, he settled himself in the chair beside her bed, and began poking through his dinner tray, searching for something edible. He decided to try his luck with a roll, and settled in to eat, enjoying Mac’s company and only occasionally yelling an answer at the TV.
**** End Part 6****
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