Title: "Plumbing"
Author: Ultracape
Email: Ultracape@aol.com
Rating  PG-13 for language
Classification: Humor, and a titch of angst (Harm/Mac)
Spoilers: Everything up to and including "Exculpatory Evidence"
Summary: Mac will no longer cry over Harmon Rabb. But that doesn't mean 
that 
she won't get wet.
 
Disclaimer:  A few years ago I was teaching a class on writing to a 
group of 
very bright second graders when one asked me if I knew Steven 
Spielberg. 
"No," I said. "Do you know Harrison Ford?" No, I said. "Did you write 
Star 
Wars?" "Wish I had," I can honestly say that I have just about the same 
claim 
on these characters as on those. But I do like to play with them now 
and 
then.

Author's note: Harm once told Renee that he didn't have very much 
insight 
into himself.  No truer words were ever spoken.


Plumbing!
By Ultracape@aol.com

Bilge switches came to mind as the slithery, blond; 'apple daiquiri' 
architect cantilevered her way onto Mr. 'Let's Talk About Us.'

Mac sipped at her tonic and lime wishing she wasn't a recovering 
alcoholic 
because right now she could really use a drink.  Actually, throwing her 
life 
away into a bottle of Vodka was not half as appealing as throwing that 
same 
liquor over the bleach blond's brickhouse body and then hitting Mr. 
Chick 
magnet over the head with said bottle. 'I will not cry.'

"I prefer the brutilists."

"I think they did the plumbing in my building."

Ha, ha, how droll.

If it weren't for the fact that Mac was sitting right next to the 
admiral, 
who also looked like he'd rather be anyplace else but here, she would 
just 
make her excuses to Sturgis and Bobbi and leave. 'I highly doubt anyone 
else 
would miss me.' 'I will not cry.'

How that idiot could just turn it on and off amazed her almost as much 
as it 
hurt her.  After his attentiveness to her aboard the carrier last week, 
she 
allowed herself to hope that some sort of a relationship could be built 
with 
the man who followed her to the Indian Ocean just to have a talk.  Yet 
said 
man, had not yet made any overtures beyond friendship.

'Only you,' that was certainly correct. Harmon Rabb, Jr. would romance 
anyone 
who caught his fancy except Sarah MacKenzie. 

'Fine, then get out of my heart.' What was worse was that if any other 
man so 
much as looked at her, Harm would start to pout, grit his teeth, list 
his 
failings but never put himself forward.  She began to wonder if the 
other men 
in her life had never measured up in her heart because she always 
seemed to 
look at them through Harm's eyes instead of her own. If that wasn't a 
thought 
to bring tears to her eyes she didn't know what was. But Lt. Colonel 
Sarah 
MacKenzie was determined that she had shed her last tear over Commander 
Harmon Rabb, Jr.

Hearing what sounded like a conspiracy going on behind her, Mac walked 
over 
and warned the two commanders that they were playing with fire. 

"I know a good plumber," said Ms Construction Worker of 1907, too young 
indeed.

Harm smiled accepting her business card almost eagerly.

'Maybe I ought to kick him in his plumbing, now that he's found someone 
to 
fix it.' 

After Ms. Brutal Brickhouse left, followed shortly by the Admiral, Mac 
silently seethed as Harm looked at that business card and stuck it in 
his 
coat pocket.  It took all of her self-control not to stamp down hard on 
his 
instep as he smiled at her. 'He really does think that smile cures 
everything.'

"That didn't go anything like I wanted it to," Sturgis shook his head.

"I don't know, Sturgis, Harm made another friend," Mac smiled up at 
Rabb as 
Sturgis' eyebrows flew up his forehead.

"Going to have her over to examine your pipes, Harm?" In the corner of 
her 
eye Mac saw that both Sturgis and Bobbi looked like they were searching 
for 
someplace to duck.

Rabb, clueless as ever grinned at her, "I don't know. I might. They are 
a bit 
rusty."

"Have fun," Mac grabbed her purse and cover from the bar. "Bye Sturgis, 
Bobbi, we should do this again sometime."

 "What's gotten into her?" Rabb watched as Mac stomped out of the bar.

"Rabb, you're an ever bigger idiot than I gave you credit for," Sturgis 
glared at him.

"What!"

"Harm, he's right. You're not only an idiot but you're a dam sorry 
fool."

"When did it become my turn to be smacked around?" Harm turned back to 
the 
bar and ordered another beer.

It had just been served when he felt a hand settle on his shoulder. He 
turned 
and saw Sturgis sit down next to him. "Come back to take another verbal 
swing 
at me," Harm shrugged off the friendly gesture.

Sturgis sighed, "If I thought it would do any good, I would."

"Where's Bobbi, I thought the two of you had a date."

"She's waiting outside," Sturgis grabbed some peanuts from a tray.

"Leaving a woman waiting for you outside a bar, is no way to treat a 
lady, I 
thought your father taught you better than that."

"As if you'd know how to treat a lady," Sturgis glared at him again.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Harm growled.

"What do you think it means?"

"Look if all you're going to do is torment me then you can just get 
your ass 
off that stool and go feed the Congresswoman."

"No one torments you any worse than you do it to yourself, Harm. You're 
always ready. Anytime any woman shows you any interest. You're willing 
to 
throw away everything you've got right in front of you just to stick 
your 
dick into another empty non-relationship."

Sturgis uncharacteristic crudity struck an all too familiar chord and 
Harm 
glared at him as visions of a chilly spring evening, a porch and stolen 
moments with his beautiful partner intruded into his brain.

"You're going to bring up Mac again. I told you once, we're just 
friends."

"Friends, huh?."

"You saw the way she stormed out of here."

"Buddy, I really pray to G-d that one day you get your head out of your 
six 
long enough to figure out why whenever anyone makes a general 
observation 
about your love life, the first name that comes shooting out of your 
mouth is 
Mac." With that he left jostling Harm's arm causing him to spill the 
beer all 
over himself.

"Damn."


The dart sank deeply into the board, its feathers fairly vibrating with 
the 
force of the throw as another dart quickly joined it.  Kevin Costner, 
the 
most mis-cast Robin Hood in history couldn't have made a better shot, 
Mac 
smiled.

But then, he was never as motivated to punch holes in the picture that 
Mac 
had taped over the board she had quickly hung up upon returning home.  

Stretching back, she swung her arm again, throwing another dart, 
ripping a 
hole in the face of Harmon Rabb, Jr.

It may have been childish, a waste of energy, and very un-Marine 
Colonel 
like, but right now it just felt very good.  Throwing darts at him was 
a lot 
better than throwing vodka down her own throat.

She hadn't even bothered to change out of her uniform before she pulled 
the 
dartboard that Mic had left from the back of her closet, found a 
picture of 
Harm taken with Renee, that flyboy grin splitting his face, and glued 
it to 
the board. The ironies were not lost on her.

Mac flung another dart at the board, her aim true. Renee's likeness was 
not 
even frayed. Harm's was practically gone. Maybe if she could completely 
obliterate his face from the photograph she could rip him out of her 
heart. 
She doubted that, but she was willing to give it a try.

Swinging back with her last dart, Mac's concentration was broken by the 
sound 
of the doorbell.

Looking through the peephole she saw the flesh and blood version of the 
person whose face she had been systematically ripping apart.  He looked 
almost as bad as the decimated photo. Looking back, with just a twinge 
of 
guilt and embarrassment at the board, she didn't think anybody would 
recognize whom that picture once represented and so she opened the door 
to 
her partner. He smelled heavily of beer."

"You're drunk," she said blocking his way into the apartment.

"No, I'm mad."

"You're mad!"

"Can I come in?"

"Give me a reason."

"Because I want to talk."

Mac reached into his coat and pulled out the blond brick's card and put 
it in 
his hand. "Call her, I'm sure she'd love to talk."

"Is that what this is all about?" Harm smirked, "you're jealous."

Something inside Mac just snapped and before she or he realized what 
happened, Harm experienced a short flight, out the door and flat on his 
back 
in the hall.

He looked up just to see the door slam.

"Smart Rabb, real smart," Rabb pulled himself up and rubbed his bruised 
ego.  
He had never seen Mac so angry at him before. It wasn't as if he hadn't 
'made 
friends' as she called it in front of her. It meant nothing, just 
another 
name to put in his little black book for those in between relationship 
times.

Sturgis words rang again in his mind.  He had accused Mac of doing the 
very 
same thing and yet, he hadn't seen her with another man socially since 
Mic 
had abruptly left. She was the one who suggested that they try to build 
their 
friendship again and he had agreed. He thought that they were doing a 
very 
good job of it until tonight.

There was a soft thump on the wall that barely registered on Harm's 
thoughts.

What was so different about tonight. 'You're willing to throw away 
everything 
you've got right in front of you just to get your dick warmed in 
another 
empty non-relationship,' he heard Sturgis' words to him again.

Thump. There it was again. But it just sounded like the regular 
background 
sounds that were prevalent in old apartment buildings.

Ironically, the only thing in front of him at the moment was Mac's 
closed 
door.  He banged on it.

"Go away."

Thump. It got louder.

"How did you know it was me?"

"I just knew."

Thump. Louder still.

"That's right, you're psychic."

"No, I looked through the peephole."

"You would have had to been standing right by the door in order to 
answer so 
quickly."

"Brilliant deduction, you ought to be an investigator."

Thump, Crack. "Oh, shit."

Harm banged on the door

"Sarah, what's wrong. Let me in. Please open the door."

Before he knew it the door swung open and he was greeted with a flood 
of 
water.  Looking around, Harm saw a large hole in the wall where water 
was 
flowing out of a broken pipe.

"Mac, what happened?"

Making her way over the now drenched and water covered floor, Mac 
quickly hid 
the fallen dartboard behind a cabinet.

"A water pipe burst, what do you think happened."

Grinning that flyboy smile again, Harm took out the architect's card. 
"Good 
thing I know someone who knows a good plumber." 

The End