Approximately 1,000 words, 3 pages (8 ½” x 11”)
the beginning of Season 9
Turning the key, he killed the powerful engine, and sat in the darkness,
listening to the sound of contracting metal as it cooled. He’d driven
for hours trying to make sense of his life, trying to discover when he
had lost control, and if it was possible to regain it.
If asked, he would admit he didn’t know what brought him here. Just
upstairs, she was only a few hundred feet away, but it might as well
have been a million miles. Once, he would have felt her instinctively,
now he wasn’t even certain she was there.
He had no way of knowing of the shadowy figure, watching him from the
window. He couldn’t feel the silent urging to come to her. He had lost
the connection, in a small country in South America. The instinct that
drove him to find her in the back-country, had been torn from him as
night fell on a city.
Once he told her he always knew where she was, but no longer. He
couldn’t feel her presence, even when they were in the same room.
Perhaps it was gone permanently, but he had to know, he had to try once
more, to find it. Without it he was bereft, alone. He missed it more
than his job, his Tomcats, or even the uniform that defined him.
He would ask. Just once, he would ask if it was really gone. It was the
only thing he hadn’t tried. He hadn’t asked. He had assumed.
After weeks of being buried by mindless paperwork, while the Admiral
reasserted his authority. After time spent, watching countless ball
games with Sturgis. After interminable evenings, hauling snacks while
Bud upgraded his computer, the clarity came. Long nights spent picking
his guitar were not enough; he had to know.
As in the past, knowing became an obsession, an obsession that brought
him to this place, this time. An obsession that fueled a primal need he
didn’t recognize as part of him, a need he fought desperately to
Tonight he would know; tonight his life would change. He felt only a
mild tickle on his mind, as he climbed from his car, and started up her
steps. The sensation was but a tiny fragment of the joy that flooded her
soul, as she watched him walk her way.
There were mere moments to spare, to pull on the silk slacks and a
cashmere sweater, to light a few candles on the table, to fluff her
hair, before his strong, almost demanding knock sounded on her door.
She pulled open the door, and was quietly swept aside by the waves of
tension that rolled from his large frame. Every muscle under strict
control, he paced into the room, owning it, like a master of the jungle.
This was Harm dangerous and predatory, the power of his passion and
desire so strong it was tangible.
Another man would have frightened her, others had. Another man would
have had her reaching for a weapon. Another man, but not Harm. She held
her breath, closing the door silently, as he turned to take possession
of her eyes.
“Tell me again Mac,’ he demanded hoarsely.
“Tell you what, Harm?” unsure what he was asking.
“The word, say the word and I’ll go away. Say it again, Mac.” He dared
Flames licked through the smoky cloud in his eyes. Flames held in check
by the smallest fragment of will. The primitive need that rolled from
him, held at bay by the barest thread of civilization.
This man she knew so well possessed the strength, the pure power, to
take anything he wanted. The only thing he couldn’t take was her
permission. That was something she would have to give, and that was the
one thing, the only thing, he wanted. Above all, she had to say yes.
Catching a wisp of breath she answered, “I can’t Harm, I can’t say it,”
she looked into his eyes
“Why?” he took a slow step closer.
“Because I don’t mean it,” her voice was small but firm. She dropped her
eyes; it was easier. If she didn’t look at him she could breathe. “I
didn’t mean it then either, not that way.”
He reached to brush her face with his fingertips, caressing her chin,
and raising it to meet his eyes.
“Why did you say it?” he asked softly
Unshed tears flooded her eyes, “I don’t know, anger, frustration,
stress, fear, it was all so awful Harm. Everything was so awful, even
before I went…” a sob drowned anything else.
He gathered her close, holding her gently as she cried. She could still
feel his strength and his need, but it was carefully banked, the flames
strong and waiting.
“Do you want me to stay?” He asked, as her sobs quieted. The question
had several levels of meaning.
“Do you want to stay?” she searched his eyes for the answer she wanted.
“I came to you,” he replied. “Do you want me?” His eyes and words gave
her the needed answer.
“Yes stay,” she responded simply. “Please stay.”
“If I stay, he’ll have to go,” he was gently adamant, his eyes flared.
“There’s no one Harm.” She answered, puzzled.
“You were expecting someone,” he looked around
“Not expecting Harm, wishing,” she moved close against him.
“Did you get your wish?” his voice deep and husky, his arms enfolded
her, as the fire in his soul flared again.
“I did this time,” her lips moved closer to his.
“I can wait Sarah, I just needed to know,” his breath warmed her face,
as he pulled her closer.
“No Harm, no more waiting, we’ve waited too long,” her last words are
lost, as his lips captured hers, fanning the fire that melted their
bodies and souls into a single being.