| Karen |
Acquired Target |
February 9, 2004 |
Part One
Monday 08:30
JAG HQ
I know I can make it back to my office without stumbling, spilling my coffee, or walking into any furniture. What just happened in there, anyway?
I reach the safety of my own little personal space and close the door. Glancing into Harms’ office, I catch him smiling at me with his full-blown, cocky, flyboy grin. Damn him, why do I let him get to me? I blush slightly and turn away. Staring out my window at absolutely nothing, I try to recover my sense of balance, both mentally and physically.
When I arrived this morning, I wasn’t in a particularly good mood. My coffee maker was broken, and the franchised, drive-up coffee house was so busy, I was almost late. Additionally, they got my order wrong, but I needed the caffeine; I was stuck with banana-flavored coffee. Yuck!
After dropping my cover and briefcase on my desk, I headed for the break room, praying someone had brewed something drinkable. I had just filled my mug when I felt him, an instant before I heard him, close behind me.
“So, Colonel, have a nice weekend?” His voice radiates with a thrumming sensuality I have never heard before. Not like that, and certainly never directed at me. It’s like little electric fingers running up and down my spine.
I turn slowly in place, to find him deep inside my personal space. Had I turned quickly, I’d have run into him and spilled my coffee all over both of us. He is within a step and a half of actually touching me, full length, with his entire, long, lean body. I stop breathing for a moment.
“Well? His voice mocks me, in a deep purr. I have to remind myself to breath in order to answer.
“Well what?” I ask, my brain cells hopelessly scattered.
“I asked if you had a nice weekend.” God, that voice, where is this coming from?
“I…um…I…yeah, it was ok.” I fumble.
“Just ok?” He smiles. “What did you do?” He takes a leisurely sip from his coffee.
His eyes lock on mine, and something deep inside me reacts. Clever repartee leaves me completely, and I actually find myself answering him, after another deep breath.
“Well…um… Friday I babysat AJ.” Simple sentences, I can do this.
“Uh huh,” he prompts. “Then?”
“Uh, Saturday, I did some chores.” I know I’m not sounding very intelligent.
“And?”
“And, you know, Saturday night you brought Chinese take out. We watched a movie, then worked on case files until 3a.m.
“Go on,” he encourages, as he adjusts his position, placing one hand on the cabinet above my head, crossing his feet, and leaning a fraction closer. He slowly brings his coffee cup to his mouth, and my eyes are drawn to the move, focusing on his lips, as they embrace the edge of the mug. Oh God. He takes another careful sip, then lowers the cup, raising one eyebrow, to prompt me to answer his query.
“Then, Sunday we went for a run and worked out at the gym.” I really can’t believe I’m saying all this, he knows most of it. If he just wasn’t so close, maybe I could get angry, maybe even think.
After taking another deliberate sip, he reaches around me to place his cup on the counter. He completely surrounds me, for just a fraction of a moment, not quite touching me, before he draws his hand back and places it casually on his hip.
I’m thoroughly disconcerted now, but I stumble on, lost in whatever game we’re playing.
“Then, in the afternoon, after we had lunch, I went home and read a book, a…uh…murder mystery, for several hours. Then, I had a light dinner, and surfed the web for a while. Then, I took a shower, and went to bed, and finished the book.” I shrug, as I finish quickly, and smile what I know to be a somewhat silly grin.
Somehow, I’m pleased at myself for my little dissertation; while at the same time, I know I’m sounding and acting like a fifteen year old. Somewhere in the back of my mind, there’s a part of me that’s being held captive, and when it gets out it’s going to kill him, but just not yet. Something in me needs to be this near him, for just a few more minutes.
“Hmmmm,” he rumbles. “Any plans for next weekend?”
“Uh…no, not really. My volunteer work on Friday, but that’s about it.” I’m not sure what I am expecting, but between curiosity and anticipation, I’m compelled to ask. “Why?”
He moves one shoulder slightly, and his smile brightens about 10,000 kilowatts.
“Would you have dinner with me on Saturday?”
Am I disappointed, I not sure, dinner isn’t really that unusual. “OK Harm.” I reply as casually as I can. Trying not to show him I had expected more.
Somehow, he knows.
“No, I mean really have dinner with me. The kind where I pick you up, we go somewhere nice, then dancing or for a walk afterwards. I want to spend some time with you. Maybe see if I can make it more than just OK. Would you like that, Sarah?” He holds just a hint of uncertainty in his voice; but there is a new smile on his face that I’ve never seen before. Not for anyone. I have never, ever, seen him look at another single human being, the way he is looking at me in this moment.
I’m still in too much of a daze to be coherent, though. All I can manage is a breathless, “Ok Harm, that would be nice.”
Then, the smile morphs back into the cocky grin; his eyes hold mine captive.
“Super,” he murmurs, as he reaches carefully around me for his coffee cup. He takes just a fraction of a second too long to pick it up, and leans just a hair too close to me doing it. He just has to take one more, slow sip, before he turns and almost struts across the bullpen, back to his office.
As I turn away from the window, my resolve is firmly in place, to tuck that moment deeply away so I can get some work done. I shake my head slightly, to clear the images and the feelings, before I hazard another glance in his direction. His head is bent over a file, but, as if he can feel my eyes on him, he slowly raises it and I see that smile again. You know the one, the new one. Fortunately, he lowers his head again, or I wouldn’t be able to move.
I manage to regain control and force Harmon Rabb Jr. from my mind, well not entirely, but I do lock him firmly in a back closet for a few hours. I even actually get some intelligent work done. I’m surprised, but after a few minutes, our little morning encounter has the opposite effect of focusing me completely. Weird.
12:30
Sarah Mackenzie’s office
My nose sees him, the back of my neck feels him; he’s standing in my doorway, his aftershave only smells like that on him. I raise my eyes.
I see his long legs, crossed one over the other, as my gaze travels up his body, past his waist. Ok yeah, it lingers for a fraction of a second just below the waist; but I can’t allow him to get too smug. My eyes continue up to his strong arms, crossed casually on his chest, as he leans against the doorframe. If he only knew the fantasies I’ve built around those arms. God I love summer whites. He always looks so lethal in them.
He’s smiling that smile again. Jeez, three times in one morning, a few hours ago I didn’t even know it existed.
When my eyes finally lock with his, he speaks
“Like some lunch, Colonel? I believe its past time for you to be hungry.” Now the cocky grin is back.
I can’t help smiling in return. When his face lights up like that, it's infectious, and I’ve seen it much too seldom lately. I’m glad it’s back, for whatever reason. If I am the reason, so much the better.
“Yeah I’d like some lunch sailor.” It’s comforting to know that, even though something has shifted slightly between us, everything we are familiar with has remained intact.
Part Two
Holy crap! It worked. It actually worked. I was afraid pulling a stunt like that on my jarhead would get me killed. I just had to try something, though. For weeks now, we have edged closer and closer, but couldn’t quite find our way past that last barrier.
Finally, this past weekend, it hit me. Yeah, she’s had guys make moves on her; I’ve made moves on women. I never really thought the guys in her life were centered on her, not more than on themselves. They didn’t deserve her. Truth be told, I wasn’t all that sincere with the women I flirted with either. But finally, I understood. It isn’t the approach that’s the problem; it’s the sincerity behind it. I can use all the stuff I’m familiar with, as long as I really mean it, with Sarah. As long as I’m really sincere, as long as I’m not just toying with her, it’s ok. I’m on familiar ground here; I know how to do this.
This flash of brilliance was actually her fault. It happened at 3 a.m. Sunday morning. We paused for a minute in our discussion; she said she had to gather her thoughts. The next thing I knew she was sound asleep on the couch and slipping gently towards my shoulder. What was I to do? I picked her up and carried her to bed.
She was wearing knit shorts and a t-shirt, so I figured she would be comfortable enough. As I pulled the covers over her, I bent down to kiss her forehead, but she slipped her hand in mine just then, and moved her head, so I connected with her lips. I thought it was just one of those sleepy accidents and tried not to take advantage, but she gripped my hand tighter and responded much too generously. It came real close to getting out of control. Took everything in me to pull back; but when we cross that bridge, I want her awake and aware.
She wasn’t entirely awake, but I found out she was aware, as I slipped my hand from hers. She snuggled down under the covers and murmured, ‘Night Harm’. It was then I realized exactly what I had to do.
She wanted me too; I couldn’t believe it. It may have been a sleepy response, but it was honest, she knew exactly what she was doing. I am pleased beyond words, but she, at least, deserves the same attention I would pay to any other woman. Hell, she deserves tons more, and she going to get it. The full treatment, backed up by every ounce of love and honest appreciation I feel for her. And, god help me, it’s working.
What I can’t believe, is how easy it is to concentrate now. Somehow, even though we haven’t really taken that next step, there seems to be some sort of unspoken bond that has formed, just since this morning. It’s in her eyes; I can see it when she looks at me. I’ve never seen her look at anyone like that before, not ever. It just appeared out of nowhere. I looked up from what I was doing, as she turned from her window, and there it was. That look. My stomach did a nine G barrel roll. I finally had to drop my eyes or I swear I would have…well, I’m not sure what I would have done, but it probably would have been very embarrassing, in the middle of the bullpen.
When I talked to her in the break room…. quit it, Rabb that wasn’t talking and you know it; Ok, Ok, when I flirted with her, I was trying to get her to mention the kiss. I finally decided she either, didn’t remember, or maybe she was uncomfortable about it. I don’t like the idea of her forgetting about it, I admit it, it’s not good for my ego. She may have thought she dreamed it; I really like that. The idea she would have dreams about kissing me, makes me feel about ten feet tall. Or maybe, she was uncertain how I felt. I think she’s beginning to understand now.
All through lunch, I kept seeing that same look. Sort of a smoldering suggestion of surrender, mixed liberally with an unspoken promise to take me apart piece by sensual piece, and then put me back together again, over and over for the rest of our lives. And it was all held together with something else. I’m betting my wings that it’s the same kind of love I feel for her. Jesus, this stuff is really easy, once you turn it loose. I have no idea how these thoughts are forming in my head, but I almost can’t wait to let them out of my mouth.
Difficult as it may be though, I’m not going to rush this; she deserves the full-blown courtship, the complete seduction. I fully intend to overwhelm every sensory input she possesses with Harmon Rabb Jr. As a matter of fact, I’m planning to just enjoy the process. Every time we can exchange a look meant just for us, each time I can barely touch her or not quite touch her in passing. I wonder just how long it will take, before neither of us can stand it any longer.
Mac isn’t just any woman, so I may have to change my tactics as I go, to fit her responses; but if today is any indication, she certainly isn’t opposed to what I have in mind. All the feedback so far tells me she has exactly the same thing in her mind.
It’s going to be a long time until Saturday, but it’s going to be fun getting there.
Part Three
Saturday 16:38
Sarah MacKenzie’s Apartment
Georgetown
He’ll be here in twenty-two minutes and I still haven’t decided what to wear. Actually, it will probably be more like thirty-five minutes. Harm’s idea of being on time is always ten or fifteen minutes late. Wearing something too plain would be silly now, after I started all this.
I was so sleepy and Harm was being so sweet, kissing him goodnight just seemed right. I wasn’t expecting his response. I was equally surprised when he pulled back. But when I heard ‘Oh God Sarah’ come, so softly from his lips, it was little more than a breath, I realized a new barrier had fallen.
It took me until Tuesday to understand that Monday was his answer to the kiss. No one can say we rush into things.
Harriet and I were having lunch on the patio Tuesday afternoon when Harm walked over to chat. We kept drifting into each other’s eyes. When he finally left to run an errand, I noticed Harriet grinning like she’d won the lottery.
“What?” I asked.
“You two,” she answered.
“What about us two?” I was preparing to blush.
“You’re finally doing it,” she declared triumphantly.
“Harriet.” I was stunned. “We’re not doing it….I mean anything” I stuttered weakly, wondering where this was going.
She laughed at me. “Not that, I mean maybe you are, but I was referring to the way you look at each other.”
I blushed then; I knew what she meant.
“I know.” I admitted before my defenses returned. “I’ve never seen it before.”
“Oh I have,” she provided smugly.
“When?” I demanded with a sinking heart.
“Every time he ever looked at you, when you weren’t looking. Same as the way you look at him, you’ve never let him see it before. But now you’re both doing it, what happened?” she inquires gleefully.
Harriet wanted details, and much as I wanted to share my happiness, it was too new. I needed to hold this secret a little longer. I still didn’t believe it was real. I still didn’t trust it to last.
“Nothing Harriet,” I replied unconvincingly. “I’m not sure what it means.”
“Yes, you are, and so is he. When you’re ready to share I’ll be ready to listen.” She rose, smiled, patted my hand, and disappeared inside the building.
I just stared after her wondering at the depth of her perception. That’s when I realized what she said ‘He’s always looked at you like that’.
Ok, nine minutes to find the right dress. Sophisticated would be a slap in the face, no high neck, and pearls tonight. Then I remember, and dive for the back of the closet to bring out my prize. Two years ago, I found this dress on sale at a super expensive D.C. boutique. I’ve never dared enter the store before, or since; I’m not sure what drove me in there that day. It fit perfectly, with a few minor alterations, and its acquisition completely fulfilled my serious need for shopping therapy
Until now, I had no one to wear it for. Yes indeed, it will be perfect. I finish pulling up the zipper just as I hear a soft knock on the door.
Saturday 19:00
Sarah Mackenzie’s Apartment
Georgetown
I made a special point of being exactly on time. She knows I’m always late. I figure this will make me lots of points, as well as show her how much she means to me, how much I’m thinking about her.
This afternoon I sent her a huge bouquet of early summer flowers. I know roses are traditional and I remember we met in the rose garden, but to me, Mac is all about the fresh, warm, erotic, femininity of a soft summer day. Hey, that’s pretty good. I’ll have to remember to tell her, if the opportunity presents itself.
Anyway, I brought her roses. Two to be exact; a deep red one for my love and a deep golden yellow one for our friendship, which I treasure as much. They are tied together with a narrow navy blue ribbon so she can carry them with her. I found out a long time ago women like to carry a flower on special occasions. What could be more special than our first real date?
I’m taking her to a nice little Italian restaurant on the river. It’s casual enough to be comfortable but nice enough to dress up. No jeans and t-shirts.
I took special care getting dressed, charcoal slacks, a silk/linen navy blue blazer (ok, ok, but it’s not double breasted and doesn’t have brass buttons) and one of those special soft cotton shirts, my mother had tailored for me, in Italy. I hope Mac gets a chance to touch it; I doubt there’s anything softer, except maybe her skin.
I can’t wait to see her; I hope she wears something that swirls around her knees, and those sandals with the little straps.
I knock on her door, and lean against the frame, waiting for her to open it. I’m trying for perfectly cool here, but the effect is shattered when she opens the door. I stand there with my mouth hanging open like a dog waiting for a handout. Lord, I hope I’m not drooling.
She did it though; her dress is perfect. More than perfect. It’s a soft, swishy, black thing that ties around her neck, with a sash at the waist. It looks like she just wrapped a piece of sheer silk around her and secured it.
But the effect puts the lie to the look, because the way it fits cries of a very special dressmaker. I’ve seen enough women dressed up to know this look isn’t accidental. It fits too perfectly and brushes her legs at just the ideal place.
And the shoes, those wonderful little shoes. Sexy as hell, but not too high, so we can walk or dance after dinner. Dinner, who needs dinner? She looks good enough to eat.
Down boy, I tell myself, not quite yet; you still have a lot of work to do here.
Sunday 01:15
Sarah MacKenzie’s Apartment
Wow! I truly believe that qualifies as the most perfect evening I’ve ever had.
I was rendered speechless when I opened the door. I was about to make a clever comment about him being on time for a change. Then I saw him arranged against my doorway, looking like someone out of GQ, only much better. Harm has all the credentials to back up the look.
I mean, look at the gorgeous bouquet of flowers that was delivered this afternoon. Most men would have just sent roses. Actually, roses have a secret meaning for us, but Harm has the flair to pick something more personal and definitely non-traditional. I’ll have to find out why he chose summer flowers. I’ll bet the answer will be interesting.
He had this beautiful arrangement of roses, for me to carry, all tied up in a navy blue ribbon. Neither the meaning of the roses, nor the ribbon, was lost on me. He just held the flowers out to me wordlessly.
As I struggled to speak, I realized I was having the same effect on him. I had to giggle (well not really giggle, Marines don’t giggle). Finally, I found enough voice to invite him in, while I gathered my wrap and bag.
I considered, for a moment, making him stay in the hall, because the look on his face made me wonder if we would ever go out. Another man, yeah, I would have had reservations about his intentions. But not Harm. I believe now, he really wants me; he is just hell bent on doing it right. He won’t even approach a boundary I’m not completely ready to let fall.
He found the coziest Italian restaurant where we could sit on a deck and watch the sunset over the river. Both the food and service were top notch, but it was casual enough to be comfortable.
This wasn’t the first time we have had dinner, but this time it was different, and could have been a little tense. Somehow, it turned out to be completely relaxed, and as special as I could ever hope to expect.
After dinner, we walked for a little while, then, we put the top down on his ‘vette, and drove down the river to Mt. Vernon. It was closed of course; we only went for the drive. We decided to go back next weekend and spend the day.
We parked at a river overlook on the way back; that’s when he did the most romantic thing. He came around and offered me his hand; I stepped out of the car. The cd was playing, and we danced there by the river for the longest time, just wrapped up in being with each other.
Afterwards he drove me home, escorted me to my door, and took the key to unlock it for me. The absolute epitome of the perfect gentleman, he stepped inside and thanked me for going out with him. While I was processing that, he gathered me in his arms and gave me the sweetest, softest, most loving kiss that ever existed on this earth.
He was watching me when my eyes drifted open, and a slow smile spread across his face, forming into the one I’ve been seeing all week. He touched the tip of my nose with his forefinger, whispered ‘Night Mac’, and slipped through the door.
Much as I can’t wait to take that final step, I must say I’m enjoying the anticipation that is building. It’s going to be a lot of fun getting there, but when it happens watch out.