Sarah Mackenzie’s Apartment
Georgetown
Sunday 0930 Local

It was the smell of coffee that woke him. Awareness was slow in coming, but he finally realized where he was. Pushing the blanket aside, he rose and stretched, grimacing as his back cracked. He sat back down on the couch rubbing his face and trying to wake himself up. He picked up the blanket, realizing Mac must have covered him with it after he fell asleep. He wondered if she got any sleep at all.

Quiet sounds from the kitchen caught his attention, but he folded the blanket before going there, trying to collect his thoughts. Finally he headed towards the kitchen, unsure of what Mac was going to say. She’d been so adamant about his leaving last night, and so angry. Angry about what, was the question. Somehow, in spite of everything, he didn’t think she was angry at him. He just happened to be in the path of destruction.

Her back was to him, but he could see she was pouring a cup of coffee. She was wearing sweats, but it was obvious she’d been up for a while. It was also obvious she’d lost some weight, weight she hadn’t needed to lose.

“Thanks for the blanket.” It was an inane thing to say, but he was so unsure of the ground underneath him. All he could think of was to keep things neutral until he got his bearings with her.

She didn’t answer him immediately. Turning, she handed him the coffee without meeting his eyes. “No problem.”

There was an awkward silence. They both leaned on the counter, side by side, sipping their coffee. More than anything, he wanted to talk, but he was afraid. Afraid to start her up again, afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing. It was Mac that finally rescued him.

“I’m sorry, Harm.” She still didn’t look at him, staring intently into her coffee instead. “I shouldn’t have done that to you last night.” Her voice was so low he could barely hear her.

As gently as he knew how, he answered her. “It’s okay. I just want to know what’s wrong.”

He noted the tremor in her hands. She quickly stilled it by clutching the coffee mug tightly.

Okay, things were calmer this morning, but definitely not okay. Deciding to take charge and lighten things up, he nudged her teasingly with his elbow, careful to keep his distance. “Come on, Marine. Let’s sit down and drink our coffee. I need to sit down if I’m going to be yelled at some more.” The direct approach definitely hadn’t worked last night, so a different strategy was called for here.

Surprised at his bantering tone, she glanced up at him. The smile that met her was tender, melting some of the walls she’d been building. She couldn’t help but give a smile back, if only a fleeting one. “I’m not going to yell at you.”

“Good. Then let’s sit down and have a peaceful discussion about last night.” He gave her one of those looks, the one that said he wasn’t letting it go, then walked into the living room, clearly expecting her to follow.

She hesitated, then trailed after him. After her display last night, she owed him some kind of explanation. Whether or not he would believe it depended on her performance. She’d better be damn good because she sure as hell wasn’t telling him everything.

He was sitting on the couch, obviously waiting for her. With a sigh she sat down on the opposite end and curled her legs under her. Taking a sip of his coffee, he cocked an eyebrow at her. “Well?”

“Well what?” Nerves made her sound harsher than she intended, so she gave him an apologetic smile.

Carefully he set his coffee down on the table, then reached over and took her mug. Placing it on the table next to his, he leaned over to take her hand. “Mac, talk to me.”

She pulled her hand away and grabbed a pillow, clutching it to her. At his look of surprise, she tried to explain. “This will be easier if you just let me talk, don’t touch me.”

Though he was surprised and troubled by her insistence on not being touched, he settled back and gave her his full attention. He didn’t understand it, but he would respect it.

Nervously she fingered the pillow, not looking at him. “I guess it all just got to me. Everything. I mean…” She risked a quick glance at him. “You know what happened, right?”

“Yes, Bud told me.” He didn’t like the way this was starting out. This was not forthright and honest Mac. In the worst situations, she never backed away from looking him in the eye and talking. The one time she had lashed out before, when she was defending the wife-beating murderer, Holst, she’d managed to talk about it later. And she’d looked him right in the eye through the worst of it.

The niggling thought in the back of his head demanded that he ask the question. “Mac, did you tell Bud everything that happened that night?”

She froze. “What do you mean?”

“Did the guy…well…did he…um…go further than you told the police?” He didn’t want to believe it. Hell, he was sorry he even had to ask. He couldn’t make himself say the word.

Damn him for being so perceptive. “Of course not!” At his questioning look she realized she’d been too quick and defensive in her response. She was going to have to watch everything she said.

Summoning up every bit of strength she could, she softened her tone and continued. “It just reminded me of the poacher. And Chris. Dalton, Coster, and even Eddie.” She still didn’t meet his steady gaze. “It’s just…I don’t know how to explain it…” She took a deep breath, willing the tears away. “I’m tired of it. Death…men wanting something from me…it never ends…no matter how I try to live, no matter how I’ve tried to change.”

In spite of her obvious pain, the relief he felt with her denial was enormous. From the way she’d been acting, he’d been afraid that…he couldn’t even bring himself to think the word. No woman should ever have to go through that, but especially not Mac.

The anger was building; he could hear it in her voice. Her dark eyes flashed when she finally looked at him. “I’m tired of men demanding something from me I don’t want to give. Since I was 16, it’s been like that. Men making advances…wanting…” She fumbled for the words, and then finally let it out before she could stop herself. “No one has the right to force me-no one!” Frantically she turned her thoughts to another part of the episode that had been bothering her. She wasn’t telling him all of it, there was no way.

“Mac…” Desperately he tried to soothe her, but the effort was wasted.

She leapt up, agitated, and began to pace the room. “And when I try to defend myself, the only option open is to kill them! What the hell am I supposed to do?” She turned and gazed at him, then sat back down limply. Covering her face with her hands, she repeated the question in an agonized whisper. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

Edging closer to her, he still didn’t touch her. “Just what you’re doing, Mac. Living life as best you can. Dealing with whatever it throws at you.”

She broke down with deep, gut-wrenching sobs that racked her body, shaking her shoulders. “Do I just go around killing people, Harm? Is that it? Is that what life holds for me?” There was such raw pain in her that he couldn’t doubt her. Death had always been a wound on her soul. From her tale of Eddie’s death, to the death of the poacher, Dalton, Coster, Ragle, her father, even the supposed death of Webb, they had all taken their toll on her.

“Do you realize how many men I’ve killed, not in the line of duty? Just because of personal circumstances?” She almost couldn’t talk because of the crying, but she answered her own question. “Five, Harm. These two made five that I, personally, have killed.” She wasn’t lying, even if she wasn’t being entirely honest. Though not at the crux of her problem, it certainly was a part of it.

She tensed, but didn’t pull away when he placed a gentle hand on her back. “Mac, I can’t tell you what life holds for you, but I can tell you that as much as you’ve had to suffer through, you’ve had good things happen too.” He stroked her back, grateful she’d let him get this close. “You’ve built a good life, one to be proud of. You have people that love you. And when things get too tough, you have to hang on to them.”

He hesitated, but decided to finish the thought. “Not a bottle, Mac. Hang on to your friends. We’ll get you through anything.” He stopped there. The sobs were abating, but she kept her face hidden.

Drawing a shaky breath, she answered him. “I know.” She withdrew her hands from her face, but stared at the floor. “It just seemed to happen so fast. One minute I was pumping gas, the next I was buying a bottle.” She finally looked at him, the humiliation evident in her expression. “I kept thinking I could ignore it…that I could handle it. If you hadn’t come when you did…” She let her voice trail away, unable to voice what would have happened.

“But I did. And I’m always just a phone call away. No matter when or where, Mac. You know that.” His voice deepened with emotion as he spoke. Surely she knew that by now.

The tears this time were softer, but no less heartfelt. For just a moment she leaned on him, her head touching his shoulder. “I know.”

Afraid to break the moment, he held perfectly still, fighting the impulse to hug her. In spite of his restraint, she pulled away, wiping her tears away. Heaving a sigh, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Here. You’re never prepared for tears, Marine.”

His heart lightened when she gave a choked laugh as she accepted it. It sounded real. “Come on, you look like you haven’t eaten in months. Breakfast on me at IHOP…the sky’s the limit.”

She smiled up at him shakily. “Rain check?”

“Maaac…” Maybe cajoling her would work.

“I’m exhausted, Harm, honestly. I just want to sleep. And I think I might just be able to now.” The gratitude in her eyes embarrassed him, but he couldn’t let it go. She needed to eat.

“Okay for now, but I’m coming back here with food around 1800. You still have to brief me on that case, and we can go over it while we eat.”

A shadow crossed her face, but she turned away before he could figure out why. Picking up the file that was still on the coffee table, she handed it to him. “It’s a rape case. We’re defending.”

He took the file from her with a concerned look. Before he could say a word, she answered him. “I can handle it, honestly. Don’t worry.” At his obvious doubt she hit him lightly on the arm. “Go on, Flyboy. Go home and get yourself organized. I know you haven’t been home long enough to unpack. I’ll be okay, really.”

He still hesitated. There was something going on with her still, but he didn’t know what it was. And he didn’t want to leave her alone.

She gave an exasperated sigh, sounding more like the Mac he knew. “I promise I’ll call if I need you. Now you need to go home and shave and clean up.” She stood up, and he reluctantly rose with her.

She walked him to the door, but he stopped when they reached it, turning to her one more time. “Sarah, I care about you. You know that, don’t you?”

Tears welled again in her eyes as she nodded, unable to reply. Something pulled at his heart. She’d cried so much…been through so much. Unable to stop himself, he reached out to draw her into a hug.

She stepped back, avoiding him. “Sorry Flyboy, but I’m already a soggy mess.”

He smiled and touched her cheek before she could withdraw further. “I’ll see you at 1800.”

She closed the door behind him, leaning her head against it. How was she ever going to get through this? She had to be stronger and deal with it. That’s all there was to it. Sighing, she decided to take a shower and then really try to sleep. The few hours of sleep without dreams had given her hope. Maybe she could do it again.