Body Art II - Another Perspective
 

Harm: "Back up, Mac! You have a tattoo? Why haven't I seen it?
Now where would somebody find this...tattoo? 
(Harm looks at Mac up & down ) 
Mac:  "That's classified."
 

She said yes!  After two years, eight months and 29 days of
partnership, Major Sarah MacKenzie had finally, with one word,
left Harm literally shaking in his shoes.  It was funny, hysterical
even, if one looked at it in a certain light.  And terrifying if seen in
another.

The bullpen at JAG for the better part of a month had not been big
enough for the two of them.  Ever since he had broken up with
Jordan, he and Mac had been at each other's throats with no
provocation required.  They simply had to be breathing the same
air.  The tension between them had escalated so much so that it
wasn't uncommon for them to be seen arguing at the top of their
lungs. 

God only knew how their actions had escaped the admiral's notice. 
Harm knew that the Old Man had been buried in a couple of
special projects for the SecNav, but even Chegwidden had to come
up for air at some point, ex-SEAL or not. 

Harm knew that Harriet had definitely noticed.  But her response
to the situation wasn't one that he'd expected.  Instead of trying to
smooth the path between the two partners, she merely watched
every blow-up with a small, satisfied smile.  A smile that widened
when anyone said a word about the tension.

He and Mac had not escaped the admiral's notice for long, though. 
God, he would remember today for the rest of his life.  They had
been arguing vocally in the bullpen about a time scheduled for a
deposition when Chegwidden had opened his office door.  The
admiral had practically roared at them ordering their sixes into his
office immediately.  Everyone had frozen in place their eyes
latched to their enraged CO.  Mac and Harm had glanced guiltily
at the admiral and, after each glared at the other, had walked
docilely into the inner sanctum. 

Harm could remember every word.  Chegwidden had yelled, "I
have overlooked your behavior for as long as possible hoping that
you'd settle whatever it is on your own!  But this has gone too far
and I will not have my bullpen turned into a sparring ring!  Now
what the <hell> is going on between you two?"

Harm and Mac had refused to look at each other and each had
stubbornly held his tongue.  Contemplating their reticence, the
admiral had nodded as if coming to a decision.  "Well, then, if you
aren't going to tell me, you two will stay in here until you have it
out."  That said he had stalked out and shut the door firmly behind
him. 

Mac had turned her back to him and walked over to the window. 
His eyes had followed her and easily read the tense lines of her
back and shoulders. Wanting to ease the tension, he padded over
to her and began to slowly massage her shoulders.  Mac wrenched
herself out of his grasp and turned on him, fire blazing in her eyes.

"Don't touch me!" she had bit out scathingly. 

Harm threw his hands in the air and yelled back, "Fine!  Just trying
to help."

"Commander, the only way you can help is if you just <leave>
<me> <alone>!" 

"No problem, Major" he replied caustically.  "That's what I've been
trying to do for that last month.  But <someone> won't let me!"

"I won't let you?  What the hell does that mean?" she advanced on
him slowly, but he didn't budge.

"It means that every time I turn around, you're there, ready to take
me apart for the littlest thing!"  He crossed his arms and stood
with his feet evenly spaced.

"I wouldn't call that stunt you pulled in the courtroom little!  How
dare you cut me off in the middle of questioning our star witness!" 
Her face and neck were flushed as she stood not a hair's breadth
away from him.  An errant thought flitted through his brain as he
remembered her stance:  'She must've learned that from her drill
sergeant in boot camp.'

"Dammit, Mac, that's why it's called a cross-examination!"  he had
yelled back. His hands moved to grip her shoulders and a jolt of
electricity shot through him.  "Why don't we get down to what's
really bothering you?"

"And what makes you think that <you> have any remote idea what
that is?" she struggled in his grasp but he refused to let her go.

His voice lowered to an almost dangerous level, "I can see it in
your eyes, Mac.  You want to kiss me."

"I'd just as soon kiss Brumby!" she lashed out.

"That can be arranged!" he fumed, his words had belied the
surprising hurt that trickled through him.  He couldn't have been
wrong, not about this. And suddenly, she was kissing him.  Her
lips had found his almost as if by radar lock and she urgently
alternated between sucking and licking his lower lip.  With a
groan, Harm had given in and pulled her tightly to him.  His
tongue, seeking the warm recesses of her mouth, drew across her
own lower lip before dancing along the hot slide of her tongue. 
The kiss grew in intensity until each was struggling to catch his
breath between thrusts and parries.  At length, they broke apart
and stared.  They shared a feral gleam and breathing hard, Harm
spoke, "My place...tonight...eight o'clock."

Mac eyes had softened slightly and she murmured the word that
had gotten him to this point, "Yes."

Now, four hours and seventeen minutes later, Harm, still dressed
in his uniform, paced the confines of his apartment.  'When did it
get so small?' he thought desperately.  By Washington standards it
was actually quite large, but his rent was low since he'd fixed the
place up himself.  He glanced at the clock, 7:35.  Hell!

Why was he so...so...edgy?  "It's just Mac," he murmured
confusedly.  No, that was wrong.  It's not <just> Mac.  It <is>
Mac.  What he had wanted probably since the first time he'd seen
her was finally happening. 

He walked into his bedroom and tossed his uniform jacket on the
bed, then thinking better of it, picked it up and hung it neatly in his
closet.  He stripped quickly then pulled on a pair of soft blue jeans
and a hunter green Henley.  Harm glanced back to the bed and
seeing that it was still slightly rumpled from his half-hearted
attempt at making it up, began to straighten it. 

He stopped in the middle of readjusting the pillow and cursed
himself. "Dammit, I'm fidgeting!"  Harm closed his eyes and
clenched his hands for a moment in an effort to get control over
himself.  After a moment, he took in a deep breath and felt a
peaceful calm descend over him.  'This is Mac,' he thought and a
small smile tickled his lips. 

A knock at his door broke the room's stillness.  Harm moved to
the living area and, picking up the single flower he had found at a
corner shop, opened the door. 

She stood quietly in the doorway, the smile in her eyes much larger
than the one that tinged her lips.  "Hi," she murmured.  His eyes
roamed over her face then began their slow descent down her
body.  God, she was beautiful. As his heated gaze traveled back up
to her face, Mac's heart launched into triple time, effectively
ruining her internal clock. 

"Hi," he returned huskily.  She could feel the heat of his body
envelope and pull her closer to him. Mac moved slightly and Harm was jarred back to reality.  He raised the hand that held his precious gift and murmured, "Here, this is for you." 

Sarah looked down and found a single white rose.