Harm’s Apartment
North of Union Station
1920 Local

Despite his initial awkwardness with Mac, the dinner was going smoothly. He wasn’t sure how he had accomplished it, but she didn’t seem to suspect anything was wrong. Thank God. Because if she asked him, he didn’t know what he’d say.

The afternoon meeting with Casey over, he’d gone straight back to his apartment. The last thing he remembered was comforting Casey, and then he was sitting in his apartment. He didn’t remember the drive at all, a mixture of emotions-anger, guilt, and anxiety-had overwhelmed him. Then he’d just sat there, trying to figure out what to do.

And he hadn’t come up with anything.

It wasn’t until Mac knocked on the door that he realized he hadn’t done a thing about preparing dinner. No grocery shopping, much less planning a menu. Shit. Oh well, that was what delivery was for. Mac liked Chinese, fortunately.

She’d laughed off his lack of preparation with aplomb, and actually seemed more like herself, if a little distant. When she’d complained of the cold, he’d grabbed the afghan off his couch and covered her shoulders. Immediately he could feel her tense under his fingers, and he backed off without saying anything, understanding the reaction now.

During the dinner she hadn’t said much, but had nodded agreeably as he talked. He didn’t even know what he was saying; he was too busy studying her. He noted again the shadows in her eyes, the way they never smiled the way they used to. He noted the loss of weight, and the sadness that never quite left her.

And each time he saw these changes in her, another piece of his heart broke. Someone had hurt her. The one person in the world who never seemed to catch a break, and who never deserved to be hurt at all. He squelched the flash of rage that inevitably followed that line of thought.

“Harm?”

Startled out of his reverie, he realized he’d been staring at her. God knows for how long. “Yeah?”

“Why are you staring at me like that? What’s wrong? You seem so…I don’t know…preoccupied.” It was the warm concern in her dark glance that did him in. Here was the opening he’d been looking for, but he couldn’t do it. He just didn’t know how to start.

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m just tired.” He sounded insincere, even to himself.

“Are you sure?” There was doubt in her voice this time.

At his nod, she continued, “If you’re tired, we can discuss the case tomorrow morning at work. It’s not that pressing.”

Somehow he couldn’t let her leave. He was going to have to get through this, and just talk to her. Tell her he knew. And somehow…somehow…get her to let him help. “No, it’s okay. I actually want to get to it. Let’s start, okay?”

Together they rose from the table. He made quick work of clearing off the cartons of food while she pulled out the files she had brought with her. It was a scene that had taken place many times in his apartment, and somehow it calmed him. She was here, and somehow, he would talk to her.

Settling on the couch near her, he opened his mouth to ask a question about the case when her cell phone rang.

Shooting him an apologetic glance, she answered her phone. “Hello.”

A surprised look crossed her face and she shot a wary glance at him as she continued her conversation. “Hey, this is a surprise. How are you doing?” Her voice was just a little too bright, a little too happy.

She paused, listening. “No, I’m fine. No problems.”

It was then he knew. He didn’t know how, but he knew. It was Casey. His stomach clenched.

There was another pause, longer this time, as she listened. Her entire body visibly tensed, and she turned away from him. “I see.”

Her fingers whitened against the cell phone as she listened. “No, it’s okay, Casey. Don’t worry about it. You did the right thing.” There was a flatness to her voice as she reassured her. “No, I haven’t talked to him yet, but I will. Thanks, Casey. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Slowly she flipped the phone closed and put it in her purse. She still didn’t look at him.

He didn’t know what to say. “Mac…”

She stood up abruptly. “I’ve got to go.” She ran towards the door, her purse still clutched in her hand.

She was almost to the door when he caught her, grabbing her arm to stop her. “Mac, listen to me…”

“NO! I can’t!” She wrenched her arm away and tried to open the door, but he put a hand on it.

“Mac, let’s just talk about it.” Damn it, he should have talked to her earlier.

She pulled ineffectually at the blocked door. “No! If I wanted to talk about it, I would have! Just let me go!” The agony in her voice tore at his heart, but he knew he couldn’t let her leave. Not like this.

“Mac, just calm down for a minute. Please, let’s talk.” He stood behind her, leaning on the door as he pled his case. “I want to help. That’s all.”

She turned suddenly to face him, furious. “If I wanted your help, I’d have asked for it! Just let me go!” And she pushed him with all her strength.

Despite the fact he had at least 80 pounds on her, she might have accomplished her goal of freedom if he hadn’t been braced to hold the door. She was damn strong. As it was, she rocked him back a little, but not enough to get through the door.

Instead of blocking the door again, he grabbed her arms, intending only to stop her and force her to calm down. He was completely unprepared when she screamed “NO! Don’t touch me!” and punched him in the stomach.

He managed to fall against the door as he doubled over, bracing himself against it and gasping for air. He’d forgotten she could box.

She ran, desperate to get away. She pressed herself into the corner of the living room.

For a few moments, there was no sound except for Harm’s gasps as he tried to regain his breath. He struggled to his feet, looking for her. When he saw her, huddled in the corner, her face against her knees, he almost cried.

“Mac.” He approached her cautiously, not wanting her to bolt again. “Mac, honey…” The endearment slipped out unconsciously.

It was then the sobbing started. Great anguished sobs. “Why, Harm?” He could barely make out what she was saying. “Why did you do this? I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want anyone to know.”

More than anything he wanted to hold her, but he knew he couldn’t. “I could see something was wrong, Mac. You wouldn’t say anything, but I could see.”

The sobs lessened marginally. “Did it never occur to you to respect my privacy? To let me handle things my own way?”

“Frankly, no. Not this. And you weren’t handling it, you were ignoring it. And it’s eating you up inside.” He held out a hand, praying this time she would take it. “Come on, Mac. Come sit down on the couch.”

She didn’t move. “Please Harm. Just let me go. I don’t want to talk about it. I can’t even look at you right now.”

Careful not to touch her, he crouched down next to her. “Mac, you don’t have to tell me what happened. Just come with me. Please.”

Something in his voice must have gotten to her, because she pushed herself up and stood leaning against the wall. But she still wouldn’t look at him.

“I promise, I won’t touch you without your permission. And I won’t make you talk about it. It just has to be acknowledged for now. We’ll deal with everything else later.”

She nodded and wiped her eyes. Still not meeting his steady gaze, she walked around him and curled up on the couch, clutching a pillow to her. “I’m sorry I hit you.”

He managed a laugh, trying to lighten the mood a little. “You pack quite a wollop, Marine.” Sitting down on the other end of the couch, he tried to meet her eyes, but she wouldn’t look at him.

She didn’t smile or laugh back. The sobs started again. “It’s just…when you grabbed me…I…I…”

“Shhhh…it’s okay. I know, I shouldn’t have grabbed you. I understand.” Waiting while she continued to cry was killing him, but he didn’t know what else to do. Finally, inspiration struck. “Mac, just try to calm down, okay? I’ll be back in a minute; I’m just going to make some tea.”

She nodded, but shot a quick glance at the door as if still contemplating escape.

“Don’t, Mac. Please, don’t run. Just rest here for a minute…catch your breath. Please?”

She nodded again and covered her face with her hands, trying to stifle the tears. Knowing he couldn’t touch her or comfort her was killing him. He left to make the tea, needing a moment to gather himself together.

He watched her as he made the tea, both to make sure she didn’t run and just because he had to for his own sanity.

When he returned, he set the tea on the table beside her, careful to give her space, and then settled in the other end of the couch. “Mac, why didn’t you say anything?”

She flinched when he spoke, then picked up the tea. Sipping it, then blowing on it to cool it in an obvious effort to stall. “I just didn’t want to. I didn’t want to talk about it; I didn’t want anyone to know.” Her hands started to shake, spilling the tea, and she quickly set it back down. “It was bad enough that it happened. I couldn’t…I didn’t…I just didn’t want anyone to know.” More tears welled up, but at least she didn’t break down this time.

“It’s nothing you have to hide, honey.” The endearment slipped out again, but if she noticed it she didn’t react. “You did nothing wrong or to be ashamed of.”

“It’s so damn easy for you to say that, isn’t it?” The anger was back, but this time he was a little relieved to see it. Anything was better than that horrible despair. “But you don’t know, you have no idea…It’s my choice, not yours. You had no right to go behind my back on this, Harm. No right at all.”

“Yes, I did.” His calm reply infuriated her more, and she finally met his gaze with her angry one.

“You did not! It’s my life and my choice. There was no need for anyone to know. The guy is dead, he can’t hurt anyone else.”

“You’re forgetting one thing.”

“And what’s that?” Her glare was not back to its former intensity, but it was close.

“My right as someone who cares about you, worries about you. There was something wrong, and I had to know what it was to help.”

That stopped her cold. Her eyes dropped from his, but he continued anyway. “You would do the same, Mac. You know you would.” Desperately he wanted to say the words-I love you-but this was the wrong time. But he could at least hint. “You know what you mean to me.”

There was no reply. She just looked down.

“Regardless of anything else, Mac, we’re best friends. And I want, no, need to be there for you. The same as you would for me.” He let that sink in for a minute, then reached out a hand to her again. “Let me be there for you, honey. Trust me.”

She looked at his hand, wanting so badly to take it, but she couldn’t. “I…I can’t.”

Stubbornly he kept his hand out. “Yes, you can. You’re strong, and you can trust me. You know it.”

Hesitating, shaking, her own hand slowly went to grasp his. She hesitated, and he saw the fear in her eyes.

He didn’t back down. “It’s all right to be scared. But you can still do it, Sarah.”

Finally…still shaking…her hand took his. Smiling gently at her, he said, “See? That wasn’t bad, was it?” Silently he prayed for the knowledge he needed to help her.

Smiling back with the tears still in her eyes, she shook her head.

“Then come the rest of the way, honey. Let me just hold you. It’ll be all right, honestly.” Pulling gently at her hand, he coaxed her across the couch so that she came to him.

She tensed when he put his arms around her, but he was stubborn, holding her unyielding body gently.

It was then she realized she had reached a safe haven. It was Harm, someone she could trust. Turning abruptly to him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tightly.

She felt so small and fragile in his arms, but the surge of emotion left him speechless. Finally, she’d trusted him. He hugged her just as tightly, thanking God for small miracles such as this.

Her face was buried in his neck, he could feel the warm tears falling, breaking his already broken heart into little pieces. “Oh Harm,” she whispered brokenly, “What am I going to do?”

Stroking her hair, he rocked her gently, just grateful for the opportunity to hold her. “For right now, just this, honey. We’ll make it through this together, I promise.”

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