Rating: G
Summary: This takes place during Mac's kidnapping/stalking problems. Harm comes to the rescue.
Pairings: Harm & Mac
JAG Disclaimer: I don't own these characters so don't sue.
Story Disclaimer:This story copyright 1999 by Sarah Brown, all rights reserved. May be redistributed as long as it is done at no charge.
Song Disclaimer: "Through the Long Night," Billy Joel, Glass Houses, 1980, Sony Music Entertainment Inc.
Harm rushed over to Mac and untied her. She jumped up and he pulled her into his arms.
"Mac, are you okay?" he asked anxiously.
"I'm okay now," she said with more certainty than she felt.
"Come on, let's get out of here," he said. She let him lead
her outside.
"We can pick up your car tomorrow," Harm said. "I'll drive you home."
Mac started to protest, but she realized she was too shaken up to drive. She was trying to be a tough Marine, but inside she was reeling from the events of the last twelve hours.
Mac's Apartment
Georgetown
Harm walked Mac to her door and followed her in. She had been eerily quiet on the way home, and he was worried.
"Mac, can I get you anything?" he asked in concern.
"Water. I need some water. He poured . . . I need to get the taste out of my mouth . . ." she said disjointedly.
Harm understood. He had smelled the liquor on her
breath and her clothes. He hurried into the kitchen and brought her back a bottle of spring water. She took it from him gratefully and drank greedily from the bottle.
"Maybe you'd feel better if you got out of those clothes and took a shower," Harm suggested.
"You're probably right," she agreed, turning toward her bedroom. Then she turned back anxiously. "Harm . . . do you think you could . . ." she stopped, embarrassed.
"Stick around? Just try and get me out of here," he assured her.
"Thanks," she said, grateful he understood. "I'm fine really, I'm just a little . . . jumpy."
"You have a right to be a lot more than jumpy," he said. "You've been through a real ordeal. I know SEALs who would be blubbering like a baby if this had happened to them," he said, glad that his comment drew a small smile from her.
Mac turned back toward her bedroom. Shutting her door, she stripped off her ruined dress and climbed into the shower.
She stayed under the hot spray for long minutes, scrubbing and scrubbing, trying to wash away the feeling of her stalker's hands on her. As she washed, she thought about Harm. How he had come to her rescue. How earlier in the evening he had come to talk her into going the Admiral's party, even after the horrible things she had said to him earlier in the afternoon, when she had been drunk for the first time in years. All the time looking at her with warm blue eyes and an understanding face. He was such a good friend to her.
She toweled off and slipped into an old t-shirt and a pair of shorts. When she walked out of the bathroom she saw that Harm had turned down the bed for her, lit some candles on the bedside table, and placed another cold bottle of water within reach.
He turned and smiled at her as she walked toward him. She smiled tremulously back at him.
"Let me tuck you in," he said, leading her over to the bed.
She climbed in and let him pull the sheets up to her chin. Then he pulled a chair over to the side of the bed and sat down.
"Mac, do you want to talk about what happened tonight?" he asked gently.
"No!" she said. "I don't want to talk about it, I don't even want to think about it. He killed Dalton because of me, and then he touched me . . ." As she said the words, she began to sob.
Harm stroked her cheek and whispered to her, letting her cry out her fear and pain. Her sobs increased, and she began to shake.
"It's okay, Mac, you're safe now. He's gone, he can't hurt you anymore," he said softly. As she continued to cry, he got up and walked around to the other side of the bed, climbing in next to her and pulling her against his chest. Tears ran down her
face and onto his shirt as he tried to comfort her.
She wrapped her arms around him and held on as if her life depended on it.
He knew that tomorrow she'd be back to acting like the strong, stubborn Marine he knew so well, but he was glad he could be there for her while she still vulnerable.
As her sobs quieted, he began humming, then softly he sung the words to a Billy Joel song he had always loved, making it a lullaby for her.
The cold hands
The sad eyes
The dark Irish silence
It's so late
But I'll wait
Through the long night with you
With you
The warm tears
The bad dreams
The soft trembling shoulders
The old fears
But I'm here
Through the long night with you
With you
Oh, what has it cost you
I almost lost you
A long, long time ago
Oh, you should have told me
But you had to bleed to know
All your past sins
Are since past
You should be sleeping
It's all right
Sleep tight
Through the long night with me
With me
No, I didn't start it
You're brokenhearted
From a long, long time ago
Oh, the way you hold me
Is all that I need to know
And it's so late
But I'll wait
Through the long tonight with you
With you
As he finished the last note, he looked down to see that she was fast asleep. Reluctantly he eased out from under her and settled her on the pillows, pulling the covers back over her shoulders. He reached out his hand and gently touched her cheek, careful not to wake her up. Then he climbed out of the bed. Grabbing a pillow and the extra blanket that rested at the end of the bed, he walked out to the couch. Tomorrow she would tell him she could take care of herself. Tonight he would watch over her.
THE END
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