Nothing Stays The Same

March 3, 2003

Spoilers: Anything through Enemy Below. Disclaimer: Jag belongs to DPB and Paramount.

She had spent the night wrapped in his arms.

Nothing had changed, but everything was different.

Mac stood on the fantail of the Seahawk and stared at the endless ocean, remembering the night she'd been stranded in the desert with Harm.

Settling down for the night, Harm had sweet-talked her into snuggling up to him for the sake of body heat. She'd gone willingly enough, but only after he had asked. Whatever this thing between them was becoming, she wanted him to have to work for it a little. She'd been cocooned inside his jacket with his legs wrapped around her when the bombs had started falling. They had barely made it to safety. Scrambling madly, they had sought cover until the air strike was over, listening, as the noise from the planes faded and the silence of the Afghan night surrounded them once more.

"Mac, are you okay?" Harm's hands brushed dirt and debris from her hair.

"I'm fine, Harm." She looked up at him and touched the scrape on his cheek. "You're bleeding, though."

"So are you," he said examining the scratches on her face. "Damn, that was too close," he sighed, then gathered her into an unexpected hug. "Are you sure you're all right?"

Mac's heart was still pounding from their near miss. "I'm sure, Harm. I just need to catch my breath," but she allowed herself to linger in his embrace.

He dragged her over to the nearest boulder and sat on the ground, leaning back and pulling her down with him. "I think the bombing is over, so we might as well get comfortable again. Does this spot look okay to you?" He kept his arms around her as he settled her between his legs.

This spot looked like heaven to her. Sandwiched between his long legs and sprawled against his chest, she was exactly where she wanted to be. Well, not exactly. A war zone in Afghanistan had never been at the top of her fantasy list, but the rest of it--this man always figured prominently in her fantasies.

She leaned against his chest, her face level with his and was achingly aware, despite the layers of clothes, of the way her body pressed against the length of his. He moistened his fingers with water from the canteen and wiped the dust and streaks of blood from her face. His fingers gently caressed her cheeks, then her chin, and lingered on her lips.

She poured water onto her fingers and returned his ministrations, her hands soothing his scraped cheek. It was all a poor excuse for first aid, but it served its purpose. They had nearly died twice today and they couldn't deny their need to touch each other any longer.

She smiled at him and rubbed at the dirt on his forehead. "I think I'm just making mud pies. Close your eyes."

He did as he was told and she ruffled his hair, shaking out the sand that had settled there.

"Okay, open your eyes. Oh boy, that just made things worse," she said laughing as she tried to wipe the new dirt off his damp face.

"Thanks, Mac," he said laughing and spitting sand from his mouth. He scrubbed his hands over his face then grinned and asked, "How's that?"

"Better." She smiled and smoothed her fingers over his face taking her time as she touched and examined the contours of his face. Her thumb was making friends with his lower lip when she glanced up and caught him watching her with a need so intense she forgot how to breathe.

His eyes were full of promise and passion and something more. In the time she'd known him he had looked at her with every imaginable emotion--affection, anger, compassion, even desire, but in the last few weeks there had been a new texture to his gaze. It mirrored something in hers--hope maybe--and there was a patient quality in the way he looked at her now. It was as if all the questions he'd had about them through the years had been answered and things at long last, for him at least, were simple.

"I want you, Mac." Her name sounded like a prayer on his lips.

She closed her eyes and savored his words. How long had she waited to hear such a simple, unambiguous declaration from this man?

She opened her eyes and met his gaze unflinchingly. "I want you, too, Harm."

He grinned like he'd won a prize and hugged her tightly. "I expect to finish this conversation when we get home--" he said.

She snuggled closer to him burying her face in his neck. In a muffled voice she asked, "What do you mean, when we get home?"

He slid down until they were lying on the ground wrapped in each other's arms. "We better get some sleep," he whispered the words into her hair.

"Very funny, sailor." She was smiling when she pulled back to look at him, but her expression changed to one of disbelief as she realized he was serious. She scrambled away from him and wrapped her arms across her body in a protective gesture.

"Mac--" He reached out to draw her back to him but pulled his hand away when he saw her flinch.

"I don't believe it! You're backing away." She laughed without humor. "I can't believe I was so stupid. Again!"

"Mac, listen to me. I'm not backing away." He was kneeling in front of her as he put his fingers beneath her chin. "Look at me, please, Mac." He sounded desperate and a little scared, so against her better judgment she turned to face him.

"This should be good. Only you could find an 'iceberg' to steer us clear of in the middle of the desert." She looked at him expectantly.

He stood up and paced back and forth in front of her. Clearing his throat and swallowing, he finally began to speak. "Mac, I value you as a friend..."

He glanced at her and his eyes widened as hers narrowed so he went on quickly, "What I mean is I want more than friendship with you, just not..."

She jumped to her feet and got in his face. "If the words 'not yet' come out of your mouth you will be picking sand out of body cavities that haven't been invented yet."

She was glaring at him in full Marine mode when she noticed the corner of his mouth twitching. He struggled to remain serious but lost the battle. Laughing loudly he snorted, "Body cavities that haven't been invented yet...Oh, Mac, that's a good one."

She backed up to give herself a running start and tackled him while he was still bent over laughing.

They went down together and he landed with a loud oomph.

Startled, he looked at her as she pummeled his chest with her fists, before he dissolved into laughter once more.

"It's not funny, Harm." She sounded forlorn.

Before she could react he flipped her onto her back. His full weight pinned her down while he held her arms securely above her head.

His voice was deadly serious when he said, "You're right, Mac. It's not funny. I have loved you for so long, and I have messed up in so many ways. If I ever earn the privilege of sharing your bed I want it to be clear to both of us why I am there. You deserve more than some adrenaline induced coupling in the middle of the damn desert."

His words hung in the air between them for a long moment, and then she smiled seductively and asked, "What if I told you that an adrenaline induced coupling was just what I wanted as long as it's with you? What if I told you that if you back away from me again tonight, then that would be it? No more chances."

Without hesitating he answered in a voice full of male promise, "Then you would be naked in the sand so fast your head would spin."

She studied his face and saw the raw desire that simmered in his eyes. She also saw the love and concern and the need to get things right this time. He was such a Boy Scout, but his need to be honorable was one of the things she loved about him. Finally she relented. "Okay, Harm, we'll do things your way. You can let me up now."

He released her warily and watched as she got up and started arranging their packs on the ground.

"Let's get some sleep," she said patting the ground beside her.

He scooted back to her side and asked hopefully, "You're not mad?"

She cuddled up to his chest and pulled his jacket around her once again. "Why would I be mad? You made your case quite convincingly. Hey, would you throw your leg over me again like you did before? I liked that."

She waited as he arranged his body around hers. She wiggled against him and grinned when he couldn't quite suppress a moan. She was going to enjoy making this night a sweet torture for him.

"Hey, Mac? Did you hear me when I said I loved you?" he said in a voice that reminded her of a kid that didn't get praised for bringing home a good report card.

"I heard you, Harm." She burrowed her hand beneath his shirts until she found bare skin. Skimming her fingers across his ribs, she yawned and said, "That was very sweet."

Sucking in his breath at her touch he continued, "Cause you were kind of mad then so I thought maybe you didn't hear me."

"I heard you, Harm. It made me very happy," she sighed.

Everything was quiet for a moment then he said, "Was there anything you wanted to tell me?"

"Oh, I'm sorry I forgot." She reached up and brushed his lips with a fleeting kiss. "I forgot to say good night."

Before she could retreat completely he captured her mouth in a deep, shattering assault of lips and tongues and sighs. He pulled away and looked into her eyes. "Anything else you wanted to tell me."

Her smile was glorious as she gave him what he wanted. "I love you too, Harm."

His grin lit up the night as he pulled her close again. "That's better! Now get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a long day."

"Night, Harm." She was still smiling when she drifted off to sleep.

Several weeks had passed since their night in the desert. Mac inhaled the ocean air and leaned against the railing.

After they'd been rescued, they had resumed their search for Kabir and their behavior had been strictly professional, for the most part.

Lingering, knowing glances were natural in such a long- standing partnership, weren't they?

Just because their eyes searched for each other whenever they were in a room together didn't mean that they couldn't stand to be apart.

Driving all night so she could sleep didn't have to be an expression of his love, but it probably was.

And the fire that had coursed through her body as she'd watched him pour a canteen full of water over his head the morning they'd been found didn't have to mean that she was a hopeless lovesick woman, but it probably did.

Now she stood here waiting for him to come find her. She'd watched his plane land and then fled to the fantail. She hadn't trusted herself not to throw herself into his arms as soon as she saw him. She wouldn't embarrass him or herself with such a display. He had saved her life and the life of everyone on this ship at great risk to himself today. He was a hero and the debriefing would take awhile.

She had been outwardly calm from the moment they had told him he was one of the pilots going up. She'd watched passively as he had flown into the path of the missile and led it away from the carrier. She never doubted his ability as a pilot.

What she had doubted were the fates and whether they would finally be allowed to have their chance at happiness. This was no different than all the other life and death situations they'd faced, except this time a promise hung between them. "When we get home--" he'd whispered that night. Maybe by waiting they had been tempting fate.

But he was back, and he was safe, and she could start to believe in tomorrows again.

She had only seen him for a moment before he took off. He had hung back until the others left the room so they could be alone.

"Good luck, Harm." She'd squeezed his arm quickly.

"I don't need luck, Mac." He had already started to slip into arrogant fighter jock mode.

She had grinned at his cocky attitude. "What do you need?"

He had surprised her by grabbing her and kissing her soundly. "The love of a good woman," he had whispered and then he'd been gone.

Lost in the memory, she hadn't heard him come out onto the fantail. She turned to find him standing there watching her.

They stared at each other with out speaking but when he held out his arms, she flew into them.

"You were amazing up there." She couldn't seem to quit hugging him.

"Thanks, Mac. I just did what I had to do." His hands were rubbing up and down her back, his touch greedy, and his need for her obvious. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine now that you're here." Not hiding her feelings from him was a new experience.

"Were you worried?" he teased.

"Not for a minute." She gave the expected answer then kissed him.

Raw desperate passion threatened to engulf them both. He claimed her as his due and she gladly surrendered. His hands were buried in her hair, as he seemed to find endless ways to explore her mouth, endless combinations of his lips on hers. His hands went to the front of her uniform and she knew she ought to slow things down.

She was his if he wanted her and the love on her face made that clear, but she didn't want him to do something he would regret. "Commander, are you trying to interest me in an adrenaline induced coupling?"

"Yes," he said while kissing her neck.

"I thought you wanted to wait," she sighed. His tongue was in her ear making clear thinking difficult. His hands were inching the hem of her skirt up and her thighs were thinking that waiting wasn't all it was cracked up to be. "Tell me again why that was such a good idea?" she asked.

He stilled at her words and pulled away to look at her. Groaning, he leaned his forehead against hers as he fought for control. "Sorry, Mac. I guess I got a little carried away." His breathing was ragged, and he smiled ruefully as he pushed her skirt back down to its proper place.

He turned away, looked out over the water and spoke softly and seriously. "You know, everything was different when I was up there this time. You and I both know how it feels to lose people who are important to us, but if I hadn't stopped the missile and you'd been killed I don't know if I could've survived that. We have a good chance to have something special this time, Mac, and I want you to understand that the possibility of having a life with you is worth everything to me."

She smiled and covered his hand where it rested on the rail. "I feel the same way, Harm." Their eyes met and held as she quietly repeated his earlier promise to her. "When we get home--"

They stood together on the fantail as they had countless times in the past six years. Nothing had changed, but everything was different.

Nothing stays the same.