Well, it is what it is...
Disclaimer: Don't own JAG of course, the grand high Mucky Mucks do. No money was made from this and no copyright infringement is intended. Any similarity to any story not my own is coincidence.
Title: Eden’s Not Enough
Genre: JAG(Harm and Mac)/angst; drabble/ficlit
Rating: PG
Timeline: After the series end
Warning: Maudlin angst!!!
“What happens now?” Harmon asked, his voice low and sorrowful. “Where do we go from here Mac?”
Sarah hesitated a moment before sitting down next to her husband on the white gazebo bench. Outside the bright circle of their shelter, a fitful rain began to glisten in the cool London morning air and she watched it with dark eyes, doing everything she could to keep from looking into Harm’s own stormy ones.
“Mac… Sarah…?” He tried to reach for her, to brush her long, dark hair back, but she avoided his hand and rose up from the bench. She crossed her arms over her chest and made her way over to the open doorway, looking out over the melancholy rose garden.
Harm waited.
Without a word, Sarah turned back to finally face her husband. She lowered her arms, her hands clasped loosely in front of her. Then, ever so slowly, she twisted the elegant band on her left finger. The antique gold gleamed as she removed the wedding ring and held it out to Harmon.
“Mac… Don’t… please don’t… don’t do this to us… don’t walk…” his voice broke as all his protests trailed into devastated silence.
“Take it Harm, please; just take it. Don’t make this any harder than it already is…”
He rose from the bench. “It shouldn’t be easy, Sarah,” Harmon replied.
“That’s not what I’m saying, Harm. I just think…”
“Fate brought us together, Sarah,” he interrupted passionately, taking a step closer.
“But it can’t keep us together.”
“But love can. I love you… and I know that you love me,” he replied with absolute certainty.
“Don’t try to talk me into staying, Harm,” she whispered, still holding the ring out to him.
It was quick then, his sudden move to her.
“Sarah…”
Harmon gathered her into his arms and kissed her with an almost fierce desperation.
“Harm,” she gasped when she finally could.
“Stay, Sarah,” he murmured before kissing her again. “Stay.”
He tried to convince her with his mouth, his hands; with her own response to him. He walked her backwards, pushing her against the ivy covered lattice where the rain served as a quiet counterpoint to their rushing breaths.
“Harm…”
Sarah slid her hands to his chest and pushed.
“Harm…” She pushed again, urging him backwards. “Please.”
“It’s not enough,” she sighed after she had, had a chance to catch her breath.
“Then why did you choose to lose the coin toss?” Harmon demanded, a slow heat finally entering his voice. “I would have given up my Navy career instead. I would have given it all up for you.”
“And been miserable,” she responded. Sarah reached for his uniform jacket, complete with captain’s bars. “This is who you are, Harm,” she said as she touched the wings on his chest.
“That’s not fair, and it’s not true.”
“It is, and you know it," Sarah countered with a sad acceptance haunting her voice. She sighed.
“Besides, it’s not just that. I’ve always known who you are. I’ve always loved who you are. It’s not really this,” she continued, her fingers lingering only a moment more before she forced herself to step back.
“Then what, Mac? What is it?”
Sarah took a moment to look at her husband with sad, dark eyes. “We let nine years of questions be answered with a coin toss Harm,” she replied simply.
He had no response as Sarah quietly slipped her wedding band into his hand.
“I’m sorry…” she whispered.
Harmon watched in stunned silence as his wife prepared herself to step out into the rain. And then she was gone, walking into the mist beyond the shelter of the gazebo.
“Sarah,” he whispered into the empty air, feeling the weight of the ring in his hand echo the heaviness that now seemed to be violently pressing in on his chest.
Then suddenly, he was flying out of the white latticed walls of the gazebo and into the rain. In moments, he was soaked to the skin as the fitful shower became a sudden summer deluge.
“Sarah!”
His voice was lost to the wet echoes of rain on rose petals, oak trees, and graveled walkways. Harm called out again, desperation giving his voice power. “Sarah!”
But Sarah was gone, leaving Harmon with only one question that he was sure that he could never answer: how was he supposed to live without her?