I can't fight this feeling any longer
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow
What started out as friendship has grown stronger
I wish I had the strength to let it show…

"Can't Fight This Feeling" performed by REO Speedwagon, copyright 1984.

FRIDAY, 26 MAY
2345 ZULU
SURFACE WARFARE BALL
WASHINGTON D.C.

Harm felt his breath catch in his chest when he heard the familiar Australian accent.  Barely noticing Renee's gentle tug on his arm, he turned and saw Mic Brumby greet Mac.  Harm noticed Mac smile in surprise and delight as she asked Brumby what he was doing at the ball.  Mic's answer to the question chilled Harm and everything around him seemed to move in slow motion as he had a mental flash of his partner and friend slipping away from him, perhaps forever.

"I've reserved my commission," Brumby replied to Mac's question.  "I've moved to Washington to be nearer the woman I love."

As he watched Mac and Brumby link arms to enter the ballroom, Harm had to admit to himself that it had been easier to deal with – rather, not deal with – Mac's relationship with Brumby when the man was on the other side of the world.  It was easy to forget that Mac was involved with someone else when Harm was not confronted with that fact every day.  No, that wasn't entirely true.  He had to deal with it every time he saw that damn ring on her finger.  So far, however, she had shown no inclination to move it from her right to her left hand.  Now that Brumby was back in town, Harm was afraid that it was only a matter of time. . . .

As Brumby walked beside her, exchanging greetings with Bud and Harriet Roberts, Mac couldn't help but seek out her partner with her eyes.  Unable to make sense of the feelings swirling around inside her head, she instinctively sought out Harm's comforting, rock-steady gaze without thinking about why she was looking to another man for reassurance, trying not to think about why the sudden reappearance of the man who had asked her to marry him had her so shaken.

Still lost in thought, Harm allowed Renee to guide him towards to ballroom. Stealing a glance back, Harm found Mac staring at him and he noticed that the smile on her face did not quite reach her eyes.  Rather, the look in her eyes spoke of being uncomfortable with Brumby's sudden move and of something else, something Harm couldn't quite put his finger on.

As Lt. Singer walked up beside them with her date to say hello to Brumby, Harriet Roberts took the opportunity to look at Mac, who had seemed distracted to her ever since Mic's surprise announcement.  Seeing Mac staring off into the distance, Harriet followed her gaze and saw Harm looking back, an unreadable expression on his face.  Noticing Harriet's scrutiny, Harm broke off eye contact with Mac and turned to walk into the ballroom with Renee, while Mac closed her eyes for a moment and sighed sadly.

0130 ZULU

Mac stood off to the side of the dance floor, watching couples move gracefully across the room with a faraway look on her face, a forgotten cup of punch in her hand.  Mic was out there somewhere; Sydney had asked him for a dance, saying that she was anxious to get to know everyone better.  The Admiral had promptly turned around and asked Mac to dance, but she had begged off, claiming thirst as an excuse.  She had moved off to the refreshment table while the Admiral had been cornered by the SecNav to discuss their recent case in Florida.

She caught sight of Harm out of the corner of her eye; he had somehow shaken off the Video Princess and was partnered with Harriet for the current dance. Mac's heart skipped a beat as she studied him in his mess dress, medals neatly lined up across his left jacket front, gold wings gleaming under the ballroom lights.  Her pulse quickened as she recalled snippets of a conversation in Columbia several years past. . . .

"You know, what they say about dress whites and gold wings. . . ?" she had started.

"Yeah?" Harm had asked her, a gleam in his eyes.

"Highly overrated," she had teased, even as she had found herself mesmerized by the sight of Harm in his. So mesmerized that she had nearly kissed him. . . .

But Mac had to admit, at least to herself, that they weren't overrated, not to her, not when worn by a certain aviator-turned-lawyer.  If only he had been able to open up to her on the ferry in Australia, maybe they wouldn't be trapped in this place and time, further apart than they had ever been, even further apart than they had been in the beginning, when their partnership was new.

But Harm's inability to express his deepest feelings to her was just a part of the problem.  The easy camaraderie that they had shared for most of their partnership, the friendship that had sustained them both through some of their darkest hours, had been strained when Harm had left her to return to flying.  Although he had come back to JAG, back to her, nothing was the same.  They remained friendly, but Mac couldn't really characterize their current relationship as that of best friends.  Occasionally, there were flashes of the old spark, such as the way he had teased her a few days earlier about not having a date for the ball.  But such moments were too few and too far between.  Mac desperately wanted more of those moments.  She wanted their old relationship back.  And until that night on the ferry, she would have admitted that she wanted more.

And what about Mic?  Sometimes, when she couldn't stop herself from thinking about it too much, she wondered if she would have been so quick to wear Mic's ring, so quick to agree to consider his proposal, if she and Harm hadn't already been strained to the breaking point, even before Australia. Yes, he had hurt her that night in Sydney when she had all but admitted she loved him and he had pushed her away, but would the moment have been easier to get past if she could have been sure that the bonds of a deep and abiding friendship were still there?

Maybe if their friendship had been the same as before, then it would have been easier for her to hope for a future, to wait for him to come to his senses and admit his feelings.  But his rejection on top of their already stretched-thin friendship had been more than any woman, even a strong Marine, could take.  He didn't want her as a lover and sometimes it appeared that they couldn't be friends anymore, not like before.  It had sent her running into Mic's arms.  And it was slowly tearing her apart inside.

Mac didn't even notice when the song ended and couples began moving off the dance floor to take a break or to grab some refreshments.  She was lost in her own little world of lost friendships and rejected feelings until a warm, familiar voice in front of her brought her crashing back to reality.

"You know, we still haven't had a dance, Colonel."

Mac snapped her gaze to the man in front of her, praying that her voice wouldn't shake and betray what she had been thinking.  "Well, maybe it's because you haven't asked me," she replied, trying to keep her tone light and teasing.  So why did her response sound so flat to her ears?

Harm noticed her tone and the flyboy grin that he flashed her didn't quite have the usual warmth behind it.  While he had been dancing with Harriet, he had seen her standing off to the side and had seen the faraway look, the sad expression in her deep chocolate eyes.  He wanted so much to cheer her up, to see even a flash of his favorite 'kick-ass' jarhead, but he was lost on how to salvage their relationship.  He missed her, but he didn't know how to make it better.  Maybe a dance was a small step in the right direction. Holding out his hand to her and bowing slightly at the waist, he asked, "May I have this dance, Sarah?"

Oh God, he called her 'Sarah'.  She could count on her fingers the number of times he had called her that and each one of them had been special.  Mac didn't trust herself to speak as she turned to set her cup of punch on a nearby table and then turned back to hold her hand out for him to take.  She held her breath and tried not to shake too much as his fingers curled stiffly around hers, as he wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her closer to him as they moved out onto the dance floor.  She rested her left hand lightly on his shoulder, trying to resist the urge to hold onto him and never let go.  As she stared at a point just over his right shoulder, she fought the desire to forget everything – their careers, the man whose ring she now wore on her right hand – and to lose herself in his embrace.

Harm noticed how stiff and unyielding Mac seemed in his arms.  How had they arrived at this point?  Nothing had been the same since Australia.  No, he had to admit to himself, it had begun before that, ever since he had returned from the USS Patrick Henry to resume his duties at JAG.  She had been warm and friendly when he had seen her on the carrier for Lieutenant Buxton's court martial, but the old spark had seemed to disappear from their friendship once he returned to JAG.  Australia had just been another nail in the coffin that was their friendship.  And the move of Brumby's ring from right to left would possibly be the final nail.

Shivering slightly as that terrifying thought crossed his mind, Harm unconsciously tightened his hold on Mac, drawing her even closer to him until their bodies were intimately pressed together, as if by holding on to her physically he could hang onto their deteriorating relationship.  God, he didn't want to let her go, couldn't let her go.  His soul depended on it.

Without thinking about it, Mac found herself relaxing and settled into his tight embrace, tilting her head so that their cheeks were touching.  Mac lost herself in his touch, his scent as their bodies swayed to the music.  Tears formed in Mac's eyes as she listened to the words.

Some say love, it is a river
That drowns the tender reed
Some say love, it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed
Some say love, it is a hunger
An endless aching need
I say love, it is a flower
And you it's only seed

Mac closed her eyes against the tears as she reflected on how true the words were when applied to her life.  Her soul was bleeding and her heart was aching, torn between the man she didn't love who offered her the world and the man she did who couldn't let go and let her in.

It's the heart, afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance
It's the dream, afraid of waking
That never takes a chance
It's the one who won't be taken
Who cannot seem to give
And the soul, afraid of dying
That never learned to live

As Harm listened to the second verse, his mind turned back to that awful night in Australia, when Mac had opened up to him and he had shut down and shut her out, retreating behind an impenetrable shield of duty, not knowing at the time how much that decision would cost him, how much it would tear him up inside.

When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong
Just remember, in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snows
Lies the seed that with the sun's love
In the spring becomes the rose

As the song faded, both of their minds turned back to their first meeting in the Rose Garden, the day Harm had received his first Distinguished Flying Cross, when the Admiral had warned them, "Don't get too familiar, you've got to work together."  But they both realized in the deepest reaches of their hearts, even if they could not or would not admit it aloud, that the feelings churning inside them both were more powerful than any order from a two-star.

Renee returned from the ladies' room just as Harm and Mac had started dancing and her eyes had immediately found them on the dance floor.  As she watched, she could tell how uncomfortable Mac had appeared at first in Harm's embrace, how stiffly Harm had been holding her, and she could pinpoint the exact second when they both had relaxed and lost themselves in each other, the music and the feelings in their tortured hearts.

She had no illusions about her and Harm's relationship.  Harm was sexy as hell and incredible in bed, but Renee knew it wasn't meant to be forever. She was realistic.  Men may date and sleep with women like her, but as someone had once said 'I'm not the marrying kind.'  And deep down she had always known that even if she had been marriage-minded, Harm's heart would never truly belong to her, for that little piece of him had been locked up tight by a certain Marine Lieutenant Colonel long before she had ever entered the picture and would remain so long after she was gone.

She didn't notice anyone approach her until she heard a soft "Damn!" coming from just behind her right shoulder.  Renee turned to find Mic Brumby standing just behind her, an angry look settling in his eyes as he watched the couple swaying together on the dance floor.  Obviously, he wasn't as realistic as she was.

"Has it ever occurred to you that you're fighting a losing battle?" Renee asked softly, hoping to prevent a scene.  She may not have been military, but she was sure that those who were would appreciate proper decorum being maintained.

"He doesn't deserve her," Mic said with conviction.  "She's too good for him."

Renee almost laughed, but she knew that the angry man beside her wouldn't appreciate that reaction.  "You know, Harm says the same thing about you," she responded.  "And I would not be surprised if Colonel Mackenzie has made a comment or two about my relationship with Harm behind my back."

That was true, Mic admitted to himself.  Mac called her the 'Video Princess' and thought her shallow and superficial.  But Mic was very much the gentleman with members of the opposite sex and was not about to admit such a thing to her face.  He turned the conversation back to the couple lost in their own little world on the dance floor.  "And you can accept being at the losing end of this battle?" Mic asked.  Maybe she wasn't shallow as she appeared to be.

Renee shrugged.  "It's kind of hard to lose a battle if there never really has been one to begin with," she replied matter-of-factly.  "Even if I was interested in a commitment, his heart's not mine.  It never has been.  And if that is any indication, it never could be."

Mic was surprised.  She had obviously put a lot of thought into this.  "So what are you going to do, just walk away?"

"I have my pride," she stated.  "What's so proud about hanging onto a man who is so obviously in love with someone else that a blind man could see it?"  She paused for a moment, watching Mic's eyes as he processed what she was saying.  He knew the truth, Renee thought, even if he wasn't as willing as her to admit it.  Maybe the Australian wasn't as arrogant and full of himself as Harm had always claimed.

"Let me ask you something," Renee said.  "And believe me when I say that I am not saying this to upset you.  Call it a little something for you to think about."  She took a deep breath, then dove in, "Is this about loving Mac or beating Harm?"

Mic stared at her, stunned, even as he debated with himself over the answer, not that he would admit aloud that there was any such debate.  "Of course, I love Mac," he responded firmly.  "What kind of question is that?"

"Maybe the most important one of all," she countered, her eyes full of sympathy.  "If you love her so much, and if you know her feelings aren't as strong as yours, do you think you can love her enough to let her go?  Even if it means letting her go to Harm?"

Mic was about to respond when Renee shook her head.  "No," she said softly. "Just something for you to think about, remember?"  With one more glance at the couple on the dance floor, she started to leave, but turned back after a couple of steps and told Mic, "Good luck.  I hope you find your answers and that you can live with them when you do."

Forgetting for a moment about the couple on the dance floor, Mic watched her leave, thoughtful and intrigued.  He never would have thought that Renee could even take into consideration anyone's feelings but her own.  Just as he had never thought that anyone or anything would cause him to question whether or not marrying Mac was the right thing to do. 

Part 2