Chapter Text
2113 ROMEO
Surface Warfare Ball
Harmon Rabb's feet hurt.
Sighing with relief, he allowed himself to slump in his seat for a moment, and slipped the heels of his shoes off under the table. He'd always heard women complaining about long nights in high heels but this was the first time he'd actually been able to empathize with their pain. Rene had kept him on his toes all night, parading him around the room for nearly every dance, passing up no opportunity to socialize with any high-ranking official she could lay her hands on.
He was sure this wasn't as exciting as a Hollywood party, but she was clearly in her element. Networking and schmoozing came easily to her; even the stiffest officers had seemed charmed. Harm was glad she was having fun. But still, a break was nice.
His date had abandoned him for the moment, vanishing into the ladies' room to re-apply her lipstick. Harm sat quietly, trying to enjoy the momentary respite from awkward small talk with strangers. Bud and Harriet were at the other end of the table, no doubt also resting their feet after half an evening of cutting up a rug on the dance floor. The other couples from his table were scattered around the large, elegant ballroom.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Admiral Chegwidden and Sydney Walden dancing near the platform. It was good that he had finally begun to date, nearly three years after Judge Delaney's death. The doctor seemed to make him happy, and when the Admiral was happy, then everyone else at JAG was happy, although it was strange talking to his CO about women.
Soon, they whirled out of sight, lost in the sea of bodies moving across the floor. Absentmindedly, Harm scanned the rest of the room, noting those he had already spoken with and picking out those he should probably seek out before the night was over.
A flash of red in the far corner and Mac swung into view, smiling as she danced in Mic Brumby's arms. Unconsciously, Harm felt his body stiffen and forced himself to relax. It shouldn't bother him like this.
It shouldn't... but it did.
Be honest, Rabb, he thought. There's the real reason you can't wait for this evening to be over.
One more hour watching Brumby plaster himself all over Mac and he might just be forced to… to what?
And there was the crux of the matter. He had no justification for disliking Brumby so much. He had no say whatsoever in Sarah Mackenzie's love life. And he certainly shouldn't be harboring fantasies about punching Mic Brumby's smiling face just because he looked happy to be dancing with his almost-fiancé, or whatever she was.
Slowly he let out his breath. They moved together well. And Mac seemed happy enough, although he was hardly a good judge of his partner's emotional states. At least not lately.
Mic said something that made her laugh, and Harm's fists started to clench again. He knew he was staring but couldn't seem to stop himself. That happened a lot whenever Brumby was around. They brought out the worst in each other.
A waiter pushed his cart in front of Harm, temporarily breaking his line of vision from the happy couple. When he looked again, they were lost in the crowd.
He sighed. The thing with Brumby had started out as simple competition. But ever since their fights in and out of the courtroom in Australia, things had moved way past innocent rivalry. Easy enough to avoid when the man was half a world away, although each time that damn ring on Mac's finger caught his eye, he was reminded of everything he'd rather forget. Seeing Brumby face to face brought it all to the front again.
He didn't like the person he became when Mic was around. Antagonistic, irritable, and even more stubborn than usual. The worst part was that he saw it happening time and time again but still couldn't control his behavior.
Jealousy is always an ugly thing, a little voice in his head reproached him.
It was strange and just a little bit disconcerting that his conscience had begun speaking with Bud's voice.
Shaking his head, Harm finally forced his mind away from Mac and Brumby. Just thinking about why he didn't want to think about them was making his head hurt.
"Are you all right, sir?" Harriet asked from across the table, and Harm looked up to find her and Bud watching him with concerned expressions on both of their earnest faces.
He forced a smile. "I'm fine, Harriet. Just a bit of a headache, that's all. It's been a long day."
"Boy, I hear you, sir," Bud declared. "I've been so worried about Mikey and then the admiral's speech these last few days that I can hardly keep my eyes open." Abruptly, the lieutenant stopped, turning to face his wife with wide eyes. "Not that I'm not having a great time with you, Harriet," he assured her.
She smiled and patted his hand. "I know, Bud. We're going to call it a night soon, I think. I can always pull the pregnancy excuse."
"We should all be so lucky," Harm muttered.
"What was that, sir?" Harriet innocently enquired.
He shook his head. "Nothing, nothing. Harriet, you wouldn't happen to have any Aspirin on you tonight, would you?"
She dug through her handbag. "Just Tylenol, sir."
"Good enough," he said, swallowing the pills just as the orchestra finished.
The two couples he'd watched earlier returned to the table together, apparently having met up somewhere on the dance floor. Harm stood to greet them.
Brumby and the Dr. Walden seemed to be carrying on a lively conversation, but Mac was quiet, her gaze focused on some distant point.
Chegwidden nodded to Harm as they arrived. "Commander, where did your date run off too?"
"Powdering her nose, I believe, sir."
"Ah," his commanding officer nodded sagely, in rare spirits now that his speech was over and the spotlight no longer on him. "Enjoying yourself tonight?"
"As much as possible, sir," Harm answered.
"Very diplomatic, Mr. Rabb," the Admiral muttered before turning back to his date. "Brumby, I believe you're monopolizing the lady's attention."
Sydney smiled. "A.J., I'm afraid that I'm the one doing the monopolizing here." To Mic, she said, "Commander Brumby, I'm afraid I'm simply going to have to steal you from the Colonel. You're the only one I haven't danced with yet and I want the chance to grill you about one of A.J.'s favorite lawyers." She nodded good-naturedly at Mac.
"Well, there's no subject dearer to my heart," Brumby replied, grinning and taking her proffered arm. He turned to Mac. "You don't mind, love?"
She shook her head, motioning them toward the floor. "Go on, you two."
As Brumby caught Mac's hand with his free one and brought it to his mouth for a kiss, Harm turned his head away, rolling his eyes, only to find the admiral watching him with a similar expression. Sydney finally led Mic away, none too soon for Harm's taste, but he called to Mac over his shoulder, "I'm sure the admiral wouldn't mind taking you out for a spin, eh?"
Then they were gone.
The remaining JAG officers stood silently for a somewhat awkward moment before the Admiral broke it by clearing his throat.
"Oh, I'm afraid I'm going to sit this one out - with no offense intended to the Colonel," he said, adding, "I haven't done this much dancing since my senior prom."
While everyone at the table attempted to digest the image conjured by that statement, the admiral smoothly linked Harm's arm with Mac's. "But I'm sure that Commander Rabb here will be happy to fill in for me, won't you, Commander? You look like you've had a good rest."
Harm managed a weak smile, "Of course I will, sir."
The truth was that he'd been hoping to avoid doing just that all night. Dancing with Mac meant being alone with Mac, which meant hearing how happy she was to have Brumby close by. Maybe tomorrow he'd be up for that, but not tonight.
Mac settled the issue, gently disengaging her arm. "That's all right. I think the Admiral might have the right idea. My feet are starting to kill me."
Relief and disappointment filled him at the same time. Gallantly, he recovered with a classic grin. "Are you sure, Mac? My dancing shoes are in rare form tonight."
She shook her head, an odd expression on her face. He'd thought she'd seemed distant all night, but never more so than at that moment. That distance had been popping up far too often lately and he was always surprised by how much it hurt.
Well, maybe it was for the best.
Silently acquiescing to her wishes, Harm stepped back, only to collide with someone else from behind. He turned.
"Oh, Commander Rabb." Lt. Singer smiled at him, steadying herself against a chair. "It must be fate."
He crossed his arms. "And what's that, Lieutenant?"
"Well, I was just thinking I don't believe I've had the pleasure of a dance with you yet."
Inwardly, Harm cringed. Ever since the incident with the files in Mac's car, he'd been wary of Singer. There was just something about her that set all his warning signals off. He'd let her know exactly where he stood, and she'd done the same. But from that time on, she'd been subtly attempting to mend fences. He swore there wasn't a drop of anything other than ambition in the woman's entire body.
"Come on, Commander," she urged, smiling in a way he couldn't help thinking was slightly predatory. "I saw you sit out the last one."
Damn. He really wasn't looking forward to a dance spent listening to her political conquests of the evening. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be any polite way to say no. Reluctantly, he opened his mouth to accept -
A cool hand gripped his arm from behind.
"Actually, Lieutenant, the Commander just promised me the next dance."
Harm turned his head a fraction to face the speaker, raising an eyebrow. Mac's expression gave nothing away. He thought he heard the Admiral cough conspicuously in the background.
"Really," Singer said slowly, narrowing her eyes.
Harm barely managed to keep a straight face, while nodding his agreement. The suspicion in her tone would have been comic if he didn't know it was justified. Singer's disappointment was obvious, but she recovered quickly, her gaze already moving to the next available officer.
"Well, then some other time. Commander, Colonel." She moved away quickly, on the prowl once again.
"Admiral, Bud, Harriet, if you'll excuse us," Mac said with what Harm thought was great dignity, and turned away from the table.
Avoiding the amused expressions on the faces of the others, he obediently followed Mac out onto the floor.
"I thought you were going to sit this one out?" Harm murmured, leaning close to her ear.
"I was, but then I took pity on you," she returned, looking straight ahead and refusing to meet his gaze.
He smiled in spite of himself. "Ouch. Should I be insulted, Mac?"
She turned, taking his hand in one of hers and placing the other on his shoulder. "Probably, but then, you never could take a hint, Commander." She smiled back to take the bite out of her words, but he noticed her eyes still would not meet his.
Harm swallowed hard, taking in the potent combination of that dress, her smile, and their proximity. Her body was warm where it curved against his, and he felt himself effortlessly falling into step with her as they swayed along to the music, as in sync on the dance floor as they were in the courtroom.
Of all the people in the room, Mac was the last one who should be making him nervous. But he couldn't take his eyes off of her now that they were alone. And if he was really going to be honest, he'd admit that the longer they stayed this way, the more he wanted to run away.
Just like he had that night in Australia.
The highlights in her chocolate-brown hair, almost to her shoulders now, caught the light in the ballroom, framing her face. He was reminded of the last time he saw her face lit up that way: on the ferry to Luna Park. That night the light had reflected in her eyes as well, hopeful and wary all at once. It was also the last time he'd felt so awkward and anxious around her.
Tonight was different though, he reminded himself abruptly. Everything was different now. Instead of reaching out to him, Mac's eyes conspicuously avoided his, and he had no idea what emotions they sparkled with. He tore his gaze from her face and they landed on the only other glittery object on her body—the ring.
At that moment, he would have given nearly anything to know what she was thinking.
2122 ROMEO
Surface Warfare Ball
Sarah Mackenzie may have been a stubborn woman, but she also knew herself. She was well aware that she had relationship issues. She might even have been willing to admit a few years of quality therapy could do a world of good. But she was also pretty sure that someone in a normal, healthy relationship shouldn't react to their significant other's arrival with fear and confusion.
Mic's surprise entrance had really thrown her for a loop. She felt overwhelmed and didn't want to examine the reasons why. What she did know was that she didn't want to think, didn't want to dwell; that would mean actually dealing with the ramifications of everything. It would mean breaking down in public, and realizing exactly how terrified she was.
Not an option tonight, in front of nearly all her friends and co-workers.
Until she was safely alone, she could only suppress and move forward. So far, the evening had passed in a blur of uncomfortable small talk and creative avoidance of certain people.
Or not so creative, as it turned out.
This was a bad idea, Mac chastised herself for the tenth time since stepping onto the dance floor.
She and Harm had been alone together for barely a minute and already she regretted it. He hadn't said a word since they began to dance. It was painfully obvious that her partner would rather be just about anywhere in the world at that moment than dancing with her. Frankly, she knew how he felt.
All night long, the only thing she'd wanted to do was run over to him for comfort and advice. For months now, they'd been walking on eggshells around each other—sometimes laughing, sometimes smiling, but never with the same fire that they'd had before.
Before he left her to return to the air.
She'd thought her world would end when he walked away from JAG. But much to her surprise, it didn't. The world kept right on turning, with her on it. Maybe it wasn't as exciting as before, or quite as bright. But gradually she found her way once more.
Then he came back, and everything went wrong for a second time. Nothing was the same; nothing was different. It was as if she'd lost her best friend all over again.
Since Australia, she felt like she'd been set adrift on a giant sea of uncertainty. Four years together, through some of the most difficult times of both their lives, Harm had always been her guidepost. Now she couldn't even bring herself to discuss possibly the most important decision of her life with him. Was this what they'd come to?
Not for the first time that night, Mac felt herself on the verge of panic. She was either going to burst into tears or start screaming if she didn't get out of there soon.
It was a good thing one could always fall back on tried and true coping mechanisms. For a long time, she'd let alcohol do the trick. Drying out, she'd learned: when all else fails, make light of your pain. If you smile hard enough, maybe no one will notice that you're dying inside.
"Earth to Rabb, calling Commander Rabb," she teased, straining for a cheerful tone.
"Hmm?" Harm dragged his attention back to her from wherever it had been. Probably down Rene Peterson's dress, she couldn't help thinking unkindly as she spotted her returning to their table out of the corner of her eye.
"You know, we can go back and find Lt. Singer, if you'd rather dance with her. She does look rather stunning tonight. And she certainly is willing."
A grimace passed over his handsome features. "No thank you. I've had enough ass kissing already this evening."
"Really?" Mac raised her eyebrows. "I've been told you can never have too much of that."
He let out a sharp bark of laughter. "I think I know just who told you that, too."
Conversation seemed to lift the barrier between them, and she felt him relax a little. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of him, despite her best intentions.
Just for a moment, Mac. Pretend there is no Mic, no Rene. Pretend you're the only ones in the room and everything is like it used to be.
When she opened her eyes he was watching her. Their gazes met and Mac felt her breath catch. If she didn't know any better, she would have sworn he knew her thoughts at that moment and shared them. They both paused, and for a split second the rhythm was lost. Still, Harm just looked at her. The intensity of his gaze became too much, and she lowered her eyes.
When he spoke a moment later, there was a low, husky quality in his voice that she'd rarely heard before. "You know, I didn't get a chance to say it before, but you look beautiful tonight." He smiled. "Much better than stunning."
She refused to meet his gaze, but felt her body reacting instinctively to the intimacy of his tone.
"Thank you," she murmured, willing her pulse to slow down. Surely he would feel it where her breast pressed against his?
Pull yourself together, Marine, she ordered herself. This was ridiculous. Mic, with whom she was seriously considering marriage, was in the room and she was turning red over the compliments of another man.
Another man, she might add, who had proven in the past he had no intention of following through with his flirtations. Just one more reason why she should have stuck to her guns and avoided all personal contact with Harmon Rabb for the evening.
"And as always, Commander, you do justice to your dress uniform," she managed to return the compliment.
"Well, you do know what they say about dress whites and gold wings," he echoed a distant conversation, another time and another world away.
She tilted her head up to face his. "As I recall, I told you they were overrated."
He only smiled.
Mac shook her head slowly. "I bet you think that smile and those wings will get you just about anything you want, don't you?"
He wore a solemn expression. "I form all my assumptions only on the basis of past experience, Colonel."
She snorted delicately. "I'm sure."
Mic and Dr. Walden passed close by. She wondered at the expression that briefly flitted across his face at the sight of her with Harm. Jealousy? Alarm? She smiled at him in what she hoped was a reassuring manner.
Harm's expression was carefully blank when she glanced back up at him, so she couldn't tell if he'd noticed. But soon after, he smoothly turned them and she lost sight of Mic. Silently, she studied her partner's face.
"What, Mac? Have I got something in my teeth?" he asked with a gentle smile in response to her stare.
The two most important men in her life had a strange on-going rivalry. When they came together, it was a little like watching the Discovery channel. Two alpha males in the same territory equals big trouble in the jungle.
They were fighting over you, Ma'am, Bud's garbled words echoed in her mind.
As much as she didn't want to talk about Mic with Harm, one thing did need to be said, for all their sakes.
"You know, it looks like Mic is going to be in Washington for a while," she said as casually as she could.
Harm sucked in his breath, dropping the smile and teasing eyes all at once.
After a moment of silence, he observed quietly, "You don't sound that happy for a woman whose boyfriend just got 10,000 miles closer."
"That's because I want to talk about your relationship with him, not mine."
"Mac - "
"No, just listen, Harm. When Mic was here before, you two weren't exactly best friends. But in Australia..." She shook her head. "Well, that was a new low."
"Things got a little out of hand," he admitted.
"Out of hand? Harm, Bud was on a liquid diet for a month!"
"And I still feel awful about that. It should never have happened," he retorted. "But I will not take sole responsibility for everything else between Brumby and me. He's not exactly Mr. Congeniality."
Mac sighed.
Men.
Giving him what she hoped was a stern frown, she said, "Look, I don't need you to be best buddies. But I also don't want you competing for leader of the pack anymore." He looked like he was on the verge of saying something, so she shot him another glare. "Please, Harm - for me, just try to get along. I have enough stress in my life without worrying if you two are going to have a drag race after school."
He shot her a slightly exasperated look. "Believe it or not, Mac, I don't really want to fight with Brumby."
At her incredulous stare, he continued, "No, really. He's an… okay guy. Just keep us off opposing sides in court and we'll be okay."
"Wow, counselor," she said, smiling slightly. "If you were that unconvincing in all your arguments, I'd win more cases."
He sighed. "I don't know what else you want me to say."
"Just say, 'Mac, I promise I won't antagonize Mic and I won't let him antagonize me.'"
With a mock stern face he let go of her hand and raised his. "I, Harmon Rabb Jr., solemnly swear not to unjustly provoke or allow myself to be provoked by Mic Brumby for the duration of his association with Sarah Mackenzie. Satisfied?" he demanded, but she could tell by the slight twitch of his lips that he wasn't upset.
"Yes." Mac hesitated. "You do realize that I might be holding you to that promise for a long time?"
There was a pregnant pause.
"Well, at least now I know you won't be flitting off to Australia, living a wild, topless existence, never to be seen or heard from again," he joked weakly.
The song was almost over. She grabbed his hand again anyway.
"I hope you know that was never an option."
"Hoping is rarely the same as knowing, Mac," he answered somewhat cryptically, his expression suddenly guarded. "You never really answered my question."
She feigned ignorance. "What question was that?"
His grip on her hand tightened. Bracing himself for courage, she wondered? "Just tell me you'll be happy with him," he said, low and raw.
She swallowed, looking at the ceiling, the orchestra, the other dancers, the waiters collecting plates... anywhere but his face. They were on the far side of the room now, near the stage. She could take a lot from Harmon Rabb; anger, laughter, teasing, grief. But not the naked pleading she just heard in his voice. For her to be happy with Mic or not, she wasn't sure.
"It's more complicated than that," she said finally.
"How can it be?" he demanded.
"Mic's a good man. He wants what I want and he genuinely loves me." Taking a deep breath, she looked into his eyes. "And I think I might love him too, Harm."
He nodded, looking down. The song had ended.
"This isn't the place for this," she said, pulling away. The sudden loss of his body heat left her feeling alone and bereft.
"Mac," he called just before she walked away. She froze. "You know I want you to be happy, right?"
She felt rather than saw him come up behind her but didn't turn around.
"Some days I don't know up from down. But I always know you care."
Silently, she willed him to assure her that would never change, whether she married Mic or not. But he didn't say a word. Harmon Rabb had never lied to her before. She didn't know why she expected him to start now.
It's the rest of your life, Sarah, she told herself. Look ahead, not back.
Resolutely, she stepped away from him. Before her, the others were all waiting.
That's when the lights went out.