Body Art V - The Aftermath

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."
 

Lord, she was tired.  Tired and sore.  'Hardly surprising considering last night's activities,' Sarah thought wryly.   She closed the door to her apartment and her eyes caught the morning light that streamed through the curtains.  Stifling a yawn, she walked toward her bedroom.  She couldn't begin to calculate how much sleep she had gotten.  Her internal clock had given up trying to differentiate between real time and the rhythm of her heart somewhere around
eight o'clock last night.  Harmon Rabb's effect on her was like a putting a magnet on a disk:  all conscious thought was erased by the mere touch of his hand.  Or his lips.  Or...

'No, don't go there, Sarah, or you'll never get to work,' she thought forcefully, though, despite her best efforts, she couldn't fight the satisfied smile that emerged.  She glanced at the clock on her end table and cringed.  8:47.  The admiral was going to have her six for breakfast. 

Mac grabbed her uniform out of the closet and picked out lingerie and panty hose before heading to the bathroom.  Her gaze lingered on the shower as her thoughts flew back to earlier that morning. 

It was the shower in fact that had played a major role in her current tardiness.   Had Harm's place not been equipped with such a detail, she would have gotten back to her apartment around seven and would have had plenty of time to get to work.  But then she wouldn't have felt the soul deep pleasure of Harm's hands mixed with soap and warm water, whose actions in turn had led to more interesting exploits.  Mac shivered involuntarily as phantom images
of his touch swept over her.  After a moment, she mentally shook herself and returned to the task at hand. 

***

Not surprisingly, Harm had beaten her into headquarters.  After sparing a quick glance at his empty office, Mac nodded to Tiner and remarked guiltily, "I know.  The admiral wants to see me ASAP."

Tiner blushed for her and nodded.  "Commander Rabb is already in there."

Tossing her briefcase on her desk, she hurried to the admiral's door and knocked briskly. She opened the door after she'd heard his muffled command to enter.  Harm stood at attention with his back to her.  Her hungry eyes traced the powerful lines of his back for a
quick second or two before she forced her gaze to Chegwidden. "Major MacKenzie reporting as ordered, sir. If I may, I'm sorry..."

"Don't worry about it, Major.  The commander has already explained what happened this morning," Chegwidden answered as he bit his lip to hide a burgeoning smile.

Mac's panicked eyes shot over to Harm.  'Just what did you tell him, flyboy?' she thought.

Harm's only reply was a barely perceptible wink. 

"So," the admiral continued, his eyebrows raised sharply, "I trust you two worked out your differences?"

Mortified, Mac could feel the flush as it crept over her features. "Yes..." she began, her voice in a higher register than normal.  She looked away for a moment and cleared her throat.  "Yes sir.  We have."  'Thanks for the save, partner,' she thought evilly.

The admiral nodded and stared intently at each of them.  "I am expecting that there will be no repeat of your previous behavior from today on.  Am I clear?"

"Aye, sir!" the chorused quickly.

"Dismissed." 

***

"What did you tell him?" Mac hissed as they walked toward their respective offices. 

Harm shot her an amused glance and replied, "That you'd overslept and would be in shortly."

"Overslept, huh?" she asked with a smile.  "And whose fault would that have been?"

His mirthful chuckle followed her into her office.  God, he loved this woman.  Harm stuck his
head in the door and murmured,  "Oh and by the way, good mornin'."

Leaning against the corner of her desk, Mac smiled softly, her eyes darkening in remembrance.  "It was a good evening, too."  At the sound of someone clearing her throat, Mac tore her gaze from Harm.  "Good morning, Harriet," she greeted cheerfully.

The younger woman looked carefully at Harm before moving her gaze to Mac.  A beautific smile encompassed her all-American features.  "Well, it's about time," Harriet blurted, then quickly slapped a hand over her mouth.  "Oh! Sorry, sir, ma'am.  I, ah, I just came to bring you this report, Major." Nervously, she handed the folder to Mac then beat a hasty retreat.

Harm closed her office door behind him as he chuckled wryly and shook his head.  "Well, I guess there's no hope of keeping this a secret."

Mac bit her lower lip and rolled her eyes.  "Guess not," she replied, blushing slightly at the knowledge.

"Then there's no real reason why I can't do this," he murmured as he pulled Mac into his arms. His gaze locked onto hers and he whispered, "I have loved you from the first moment I saw you."

She cupped his jaw softly in response.  Her heart sang, but her mind forced her to ask the question whose answer she had been dreading.  "Even though I'm a carbon copy of Diane?"

Harm rested his forehead against hers and sighed.  The warm breath tingled against her lips, but she refused to give in until she had an answer.  "Mac, you may look like her on the outside," he paused a moment and, smiling slightly, qualified, "with the exception of the tattoo, but on the inside, where it counts most, you are your own person.  And that's who I fell in love with."

Relief washed through her and she raised up on her tip-toes and planted a long sultry kiss on his lips.  They broke apart a minute later, each too dazed to notice the grinning faces of the rest of the bullpen. 

"OK, people," Chegwidden ordered from his office door, "show's over.  Get back to work!"  He too had watched as his senior officers had openly declared their relationship to their co-workers. 

Only the most observant would have noticed the satisfied gleam that lit his dark eyes as he returned to his office.  Once safely ensconced in the mahogany paneled walls, he murmured softly, "It's about damn time."