Title:  		Rules of Engagement
Author:  		"Beatrice"
E-mail:  		jennifer_ruger@hotmail.com
Rating:  		PG-13
Classification:	Best Shipper Fic 20K and Under;
Most Humorous
Spoilers: 		None
Summary:  		Harm and Mac start dating,
unbeknownst to the rest of the JAG crew.

Disclaimer:  I don't own JAG or its characters.  They
are the property of Donald Bellisario and Belisarius
Productions.  No copyright infringement intended -
I'm not making any profit from this.

***
0845 Local Time
JAG Headquarters

Harm rode the elevator up to his office, trying
desperately to wipe the smile off his face.  If the
Admiral saw him like this, he'd never hear the end of
it.

He couldn't help it, though.  He just couldn't get
last night off his mind.  He and Mac had planned to
spend the evening alone at his apartment, having
dinner and just relaxing.  After the dishes had been
put away, they had settled down on the couch to
listen to some music.  Yearning for contact, he
employed a tactic that had worked for him once
before, on a starry night in the Afghan desert.
Under the pretense of showing her the CD case, he
enticed her to sit closer.  Mac had smiled knowingly,
obviously recognizing the ploy for what it was, but
acquiesced nonetheless.  Once she was next to him,
he'd thrown one arm across the back of the couch
behind her, then handed her the case.  Being that
close to her was positively intoxicating.  With the
fingertips of his other hand, he'd started to trace
feather-light patterns on the back of her hand.
Unable to stop himself, he had gently turned her hand
over and stroked the delicate skin on the inside of
her forearm.  The motion caused her to shiver, and
she'd turned to him with passion-glazed eyes...

Well, he couldn't testify to the exact sequence of
events from there, but their quiet evening at home
had turned into a rather heated make-out session on
the couch.

Only their mutual promise to take things slow had
prevented him from dragging her to the bedroom.  Not
that he hadn't considered it.  Nor would he have
objected if she had dragged him.  After all, she was
a highly trained Marine and thoroughly capable of
pinning him down and imposing her will on him.  But
they managed to restrain themselves - that time.
They were not sleeping together yet, but if last
night was any indication, they were not going to be
able to hold out much longer.

Stepping off the elevator, Harm rounded the corner
and entered the bullpen.  Right away, he spotted Mac
outside her office, head bent over a file, conversing
with a young ensign.  She looked up at Harm, a shy
smile forming on her lips.  Then she seemed to
examine him more closely, her brows drawing together
in puzzlement.  Then she froze, her eyes widening,
and all the color drained from her face.  She handed
the folder back to the clerk, absent-mindedly
muttered her thanks and a curt dismissal, and stood
rooted in place as Harm approached her.

"Morning, Colonel."  The heat in his gaze belied the
formality of his greeting, but the inconsistency was
lost on her.

"Commander, may I see you in my office?  Now?"  Her
voice sounded oddly strained.  She did not wait for
his reply but instead marched directly through the
doorway and drilled him with her stare.

Harm followed her in, set his cover and briefcase
down on her desk, then turned to watch with interest
as she swiftly shut the door behind him and cranked
the blinds shut.  A quick scan of memory suggested he
hadn't done anything to warrant a chewing out - at
least not this early in the day - nor did he think
she was brazen enough to jump him right here in the
office.  Still, as he'd told her once before, she had
been a surprise to him from the moment they met.  He
mustered his most innocent expression.  "What's up?"

"On your neck!  I can see it!" she hissed.

Harm rolled his eyes, understanding dawning on him.
He'd noticed the object in question while shaving,
pausing to reflect on its origins and the passionate
nature of a certain Marine.  It was enough to take
his breath away.  "Are you referring to my hickey?"

"Yes," she replied, exasperated.

"So?  I didn't put it there."

"Why didn't you put some make-up on it?" she
sputtered.

"Gee, I must have left my compact in my other
briefcase," he deadpanned.

Determined to take some action, Mac grabbed her purse
and rummaged through it, pulling out a small round
container.  Armed with the pressed powder in one hand
and puff in the other, she squared her shoulders and
went on the attack.  Harm jerked his head back when
he realized her intent but then submitted, martyr-
like, as she dabbed make-up on him.  They could do
this the easy way, or they could do this the hard
way, and he strongly suspected that the hard way
would involve having his knees taken out from under
him and one arm twisted painfully behind his back.
Just one of the minor liabilities of having a Marine
as your girlfriend.

Still, he couldn't help whining good-naturedly,
"Maaaac.  It's not gonna help."  Standing this close
to her, it required all of his self-control to keep
from wrapping his arms around her and violating every
regulation ever written on the topic of
fraternization.  God, she was beautiful.  Her silky
skin, the exquisite curve of her cheek, her long,
elegant neck...   Speaking of which, what have we
here?  He cocked his head to one side and peered at
her more closely, his lips curving upward in
amusement.  "I can still see yours," he teased.

Mac frowned and gave him a dirty look, but her voice
softened.  "Make a mental note:  no more hickeys
above the collar."

Harm raised an eyebrow suggestively.  "Fine by me."
His eyes roved over her figure as he continued,
"There are plenty of other interesting places to…"

"Harm!!!"  She ceased all activity and stared him
down until he looked appropriately penitent, then
resumed her assault.  "I should give you a red light,
Commander."

Not even a brief scolding was going to spoil his mood
today.  In an instant, the cocky aviator persona
resurfaced.  "But you weren't giving me the red light
last night, Colonel.  Last night, all I saw was
green."  He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a
confidential volume.  "Marine green, of course."  His
eyes twinkled mischievously.  He was obviously
refusing to take this situation at all seriously.

She couldn't help smiling back at him.  "Yeah, that's
why we're in this mess," she replied dryly.  She
stepped back to examine her handiwork, obviously non-
plussed.  She sighed as she snapped the compact shut.
"You're right.  It's hopeless.  What if somebody
mentions it?"

"Then I'll tell them the truth – that I had a hot
date last night."  Harm grinned broadly and wiggled
his eyebrows.

Mac shot him a withering glance.  "Very funny.  And
with our matching hickeys, how long do you suppose
it'll take our co-workers to figure out we were on
the same date?"

"Not very long, the Admiral's still pretty sharp,
even at his age."  Harm began to chuckle, but Mac
only became more agitated.

"This is not a joke!"

Finally, her desperation seemed to register with him.
Harm placed a gentle hand on her shoulder to calm
her.  "No, it's not.  In fact," his hand slid down
her arm, his fingers lacing with hers, "I think it's
pretty damn serious."  Their eyes met and locked,
both of them understanding instantly that they were
no longer speaking of something so trivial as a
hickey.

"I mean it, Mac.  I..." he broke off, glancing away
and seeming mildly embarrassed.  Then, he ventured to
meet her eyes again.  "I've never felt this way
before.  It just - our being together - it feels so
right, and I don't want that to change.  I don't ever
want to let anything get in the way, of us, again."
He smiled at her, a genuine, devoted, lovesick smile.

Completely mesmerized, she returned his smile.  "I
feel the same way."

He squeezed her hand, looking more intense than
before.  Somewhere in the back of her mind, Mac knew
she should pull away, that even the minimal amount of
contact they had allowed themselves thus far was
verboten in the office.  But she didn't want to pull
away, not as long as those beautiful blue eyes were
focused on her and his touch was warm and loving.
She just wanted to stay in this moment forever.

But there were certain realities to address.  Harm's
next words brought those to the forefront.  "Having
said that, I do recognize, and agree with, the need
for discretion here at work.  So, what do you propose
we do about our current predicament?"

Mac took a deep breath.  "Well, I don't think we have
much choice.  Here's the plan:  you just try to keep
your distance from me today."  He opened his mouth to
protest, but she preempted him.  "No argument.  Try
not to be any closer than 10 feet and not in the same
room if you can help it."  At his wounded expression,
she gave him an apologetic look and softened her
tone.  "Harm, please.  If we're not right next to
each other, maybe they won't put two and two
together."

"Yes, ma'am," he said resignedly.  He wedged his
cover under his arm and picked up his briefcase,
pausing with his other hand on the doorknob.  A hint
of his former playfulness crept back into his
features.  "Hey, Mac.  Dinner tonight?  My place
again?"

"Better make it a public place, Commander.  For your
own safety, of course."  With that, she flashed him a
sultry, seductive smile that made him feel flushed
and his pulse quicken.

Harm closed his eyes, silently bemoaning his fate.
Sometimes Marines just didn't play fair.  The memory
of that sexy smile was definitely not going to help
him concentrate through the rest of the day.  It
would be at least 8 more hours until he could hope to
be alone with her again, and somehow he'd have to
feign productivity until then.  He shook his head,
sighed, and opened the door.

It was going to be a very long day.

The End