Author: Nancy
Disclaimer: JAG and characters do not belong to me. This is only for
entertainment.
Classification: PG 13
Category: H/M drama
Summary: Harm and Mac's Christmas becomes a challenge to survive when
an assignment to the Middle East turns threatening. This happens during
season 7.
Written 12/01
PART 4
Mac had wrapped herself around Harm's warm body during the night and woke up in that position. He felt so warm as she nuzzled her face against his neck and listened to his breathing. Slowly awareness that his breathing sounded wheezy and he really felt almost hot sent up red warning flags. Pulling herself away woke him.
"Morning." He smiled sleepily.
She reached up and felt his forehead. "Harm you have a fever, and you sound congested."
He pushed himself to a sitting position requiring much more effort than it should have. "I'm alright. Just sore from the crash." He tried to sound convincing, but the pallor in his face contradicted him.
"Harm, you're not alright. Why didn't you say something yesterday?" Mac fretted.
"Alright, Mac I was in the helicopter crash yesterday and I guess I got banged up. I guess I can't hide anything from you." He said with a little sarcastic humor.
"Cute sailor." Mac picked up the water bag and gave him a sip of water.
"I can handle this. At least I'm not in the middle of the Atlantic alone." He squeezed her hand reassuringly.
They didn't notice the little Bedouin shepherd boy approach with one of the older members of the tribe. He said some words that they didn't understand and handed them a clay pottery container that held a hot broth of some sort. The little boy smiled and pretended to drink bringing a chuckle from Harm and Mac.
"Thank you." Mac smiled and held the cup so Harm could take a sip.
Harm continued to smile as the little boy watched, "What do you think is in this?"
"I don't know, but at least it's warm. Drink! That's an order."
"You just want to see if it makes me sick before you drink it."
"You're already sick. Now drink!"
The little boy laughed and repeated Mac. "Drink, that an order."
"You heard him." Mac tilted the cup so Harm could drink. "Well? How was it?"
Harm cleared his throat several times, "It's spicy."
Mac took a small sip. Her eyes grew round. "You can feel this down to your toes."
The young brown-eyed boy laughed and handed them each some flat bread. Harm reached into their bag and gave the boy the rest of the pecans and fudge and the older man the bottle of bourbon.
"Merry Christmas." Harm said to the little boy's bright smile. The older man nodded and led the boy back to the other tribesmen.
"And I thought your cooking was bad." Harm chewed on the tough dry bread.
Mac retorted, "And to think I was worried about you!"
"Sorry, but you must admit that casserole you brought to work was." Harm stopped when he saw the daggers shooting from her eyes.
"Was what? It sure beat that rice concoction you brought."
"Hey! Mine got eaten."
"Yours was dumped in the trashcan. No one wanted to hurt your feelings."
"At least mine was not Hamburger Helper."
"Tiner told me he liked it. It tasted just like his mom's."
"Where did you get that rice recipe from anyway? It was nasty."
"It was the Admiral's recipe."
Mac's expression fell, "Oh know. I told him I thought that it reminded me of boot camp leftovers."
"Good move Marine. Speaking of moving, our friends are going to leave us if we don't hurry up. I just need a little help getting up."
"How about another Christmas carol? What was you favorite growing up?" Mac slid her arm around Harm's waist while he draped his arm over her shoulder and used his free hand to push off with the staff he used as a cane.
"I'll Be Home for Christmas. I used to play it repeatedly. I think I must have believed that if I played it enough my dad would come home. What was yours?"
"Santa Claus is Coming to Town. I thought that if I was nice enough maybe Santa would bring me a dad who didn't get drunk every Christmas."
"I guess it's time to pick a new favorite."
"Yes it is. I'm sorry I made fun of your rice dish."
"I really like that cheesy kind of Hamburger helper without the hamburger."
"It's called macaroni and cheese."
"I bet you make a really good mac and cheese."
"Are you trying to be funny?"
"Do I have to try?"
"Now your having delusions."
"Why are you so mean to me?"
"I'm not mean."
"Yes you are."
"Am not."
"I'm not going to win this one, am I?"
"No."
"Are we almost there yet?"
"Where?"
"Where ever we are supposed to be when we get there."
"You'll know we're there when we get there."
"Where?"
"This is getting to be a long trip."
"My knee hurts."
"My head hurts."
"My knee hurt first."
"How about another Christmas carol?"
*****
"Jingle bells shot gun shells, Granny's got a gun, shot Bin Laden in the underwear. You should have seen him run."
"Speaking of Bin Laden, I wonder if his friends are looking for us?"
"I've been thinking the same thing. If they find us with these people, they will kill them too." Harm said worriedly. He and Mac glanced at their little friend who was blissfully running along the side of the small herd of sheep and goats.
Several hours later they stopped at an oasis for a meal. The banter had virtually become nonexistent as Harm used all of what little energy he had to put one foot in front of another. Mac felt him lean more heavily against her the last miles. "Okay flyboy take a rest, and I'm going to climb to the top of that hill and see if anyone is following us."
Harm lay back and closed his eyes not responding.
Mac made it to the top and could see for miles around them. She had packed a pair of binoculars and made a visual sweep. "Oh no." Perhaps five or so miles behind them was a jeep following their path. She saw no markings indicating they were either Syrian or Israeli. She hurried back to where Harm lay. "Harm, I think we are being followed. We need to find a place to hide."
Harm looked up at her and pleaded, "Mac you could dress like the Bedouin women and they would not suspect you."
"What about you?"
"If the tribe moves out now, they won't suspect that I was with them."
"That is not acceptable."
"Mac I can't out run them, and I obviously don't have the right cultural characteristics to hide amongst them. Two Marines have died already, I can't have anymore die on my behalf."
"I'm not leaving you."
"Please."
"Marines don't leave their people behind."
The young shepherd boy ran over to them and began chattering and gesturing for them to follow. Mac pulled Harm up, and the two followed the boy to the side of one of the rocky hills to find a small cave opening.
"He's found us a hiding place." Mac smiled and pushed Harm down through the narrow opening.
The cave was just deep enough for the two with their bags.
"Mac have I ever told you that I don't like snakes."
Mac cringed as she saw a long slender reptile slither towards the opening of the cave.
The snake curled up in the entrance blocking their exit with its tongue flickering from the triangular shaped mouth.
They could hear the sound of the jeep stopping at the oasis. The men were speaking in Farsi. "They are looking for us." She whispered.
The sounds of footsteps approaching their location grew louder and louder. Mac squeezed Harm's hand as the two remained perfectly quiet. Mac felt panicked when she heard a voice yell out that their cave had been discovered. The next sound was of a gun safety being released. Harm pulled Mac even closer as he felt his heart beating wildly in his chest.
More Farsi words were spoken at the entrance. Harm could hear Mac let out a deep breath. Then the men sounded as if they were leaving.
"Why did they leave?" Harm whispered.
"They saw the snake at the entrance. They said there was no way we could get past that snake. It is one of the most poisonous in the desert."
"How do we get past the snake to get out of here?"
About that time their slithering protector moved effortlessly out of the cave entrance and down behind another crack in the hillside.
"I've changed my mind. I think that I like some snakes. Of course I'll never like certain Australian reptiles." Harm shook his head in wonderment.
Mac guided Harm out of the cave and back near the oasis. The Bedouin tribe of shepherds had disappeared, and the last rays of sunlight began to disappear in the western horizon.
"Let's rest a little while and then we better get moving before bin Laden's friends come back."
They wearily made their way north finally stopping for the night in small valley between two hills. Harm almost fell to the ground in fatigue and pain. Mac placed one of the bags under his head and gave him sips of water. He was not going to be able to travel anymore. Tomorrow she would have to make a decision to stay with him and hope someone friendly would find them or leave him and hope he would be all right until she returned with help. She damped a handkerchief and tenderly wiped his face.
"Merry Christmas Harm." She lay close as she could next to him trying to keep him warm.
The stars were especially bright in the desert with no land lights to distract from their glow. Harm moved and groaned, "Mac?"
"Right here Harm." She moved so that her face was inches from his.
"We fooled them didn't we." He smiled weakly.
"Yes we did." She stroked his face and winced at the heat.
"Look how bright the stars are tonight." He sounded dazed.
Mac looked up and saw an especially bright star just to the north of them. "Perhaps that is the star of Bethlehem."
Harm coughed harshly, and tears escaped his eyes. "We would have been good together."
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