Here’s the next installment of the “Birthday” series, part 8 “On The Boardwalk We’ll Be Having Some Fun”

A/N: Once again, a humble and grateful bow to the Harmy Board from whom I stole the name for the B&B Harm and Mac are cavorting in this weekend. I know these continue to be very short, but I really did post Part 7 and Part 8 both on Sun., 11/6 so do I get credit for a combined score? (Once a straight A student, always wants to be a straight A student, kinda like salmon coming back to spawn.) Last, but perhaps most importantly, thanks to everyone who has posted encouragement and kudos. It means more than you could know! Oh and yes, JAMA is the Journal for the American Medical Association (bible of the USA med practice at large), Science is a technical journal more into microbiology and technique advancements (or at least that’s how I perceive it).

The usual disclaimers: Bellasarius Productions and Paramount own these characters no matter how much I wish I did. No one’s making any money off this, but hopefully we’re all having fun.


On The Boardwalk We’ll Be Having Some Fun
Birthday Series (Part 8)

Just outside the Manly Arms B&B
1430 Local

Suddenly Harm ducks into a doorway, pulling me with him.

“Wahh?”, I start to ask.

Earnestly he puts his finger to my lips. “Don’t want to alert any JAG personnel out there to our presence. But I need to know, and this is a strictly ‘need to know’ assignment Mac. An undercover assignment. Totally voluntary. I’m up for it. Are you?”

I’m not sure which I want to do more: kill him or kiss him. He’s making fun of my concerns about getting caught fraternizing, lying to a superior officer, dereliction of duty and how knows how many more charges can be brought against us (being hopelessly in love, defenselessly regressing to adolescence, failure to resist hormone overload are just a few more I can think of, although I’m not sure I can cite the UCMJ regs on them). He’s also making me laugh at my own concerns. I mean really, what are the chances of running into someone from JAG?

I give him a thoughtful look. “Harm,” I say as if our National Security was at stake, “since we’ve recently served together on a number of ‘risky’ undercover assignments, I’m well aware how ‘up’ to the task you are. I’m flattered that you’d ask me to be your partner in this one. Yes, I’ll gladly volunteer for duty, God, corps and country.”

OK, maybe I a fumbled a few lines last Wednesday morning in the break room (I’m pleading coffee stirrer induced insanity, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it). I’ll admit to being a bit tongue-tied Friday afternoon in my office (it’s tough staying cool when you’re convinced the object of your fantasy just caught you dreaming about him). Certainly can’t deny being speechless Saturday morning when he walked in wearing those spandex running pants (kinda hard to deny a charge when there are like 15 witnesses, I’m a lawyer, I know these things). However, I made my grade school “this is how you act like a cat” teacher proud with that delivery.

For an instant Harm’s face automatically clicks into military duty mode. Then I smile, he smiles, we hug and laugh.

“Mac, have you ever considered doing some acting on the side?”

If only he knew.

As we exit the doorway, he puts his arm around my shoulder. I find that my arm fits just perfectly around his waist. I don’t know if he’s shortening his stride for my benefit, but we are walking in perfect harmony. (Oh please, oh please make this a sign for things to come I urge the powers of the universe, whatever they may be.)

“So, what do you know about this area, Mac? Been here before? Any favorite places to eat?”

Well, now now. This is an interesting line of conversation. Is Harm wondering if I’ve been here before with another man? Do I tweak and tease him? Intentionally make him jealous?

Would I slit my wrists with a dull, rusty knife just to see what it feels like? Playful is one thing, stupid and cruel is another.

“No Harm, I’ve just heard about it. But I think if we just stroll along the boardwalk we’ll find something to eat.” I take one look at his face and just know he’s gonna make some sexy double entendre crack.

“Maac, if I wanted the best thing in town to eat I wouldn’t have let you leave our room.”

Wow, that was no double entendre. That was out and out statement of sexual desire. OK, how fast can we find something to feed my physical hunger? ‘Cause if we don’t get back to the room pretty soon we’ll be up for more charges (public indecency, conduct unbecoming -- although I think I could get out of that one on the merits that we were most becoming).

I realize I’ve gulped again. I wonder if this is going to become a chronic condition.

“I’ve heard,” I try to sound casual, “there are vendors right on the boardwalk that sell great crab cakes, fish chowders, things like that. You know, you don’t have to go into a restaurant and get a table and wait.” I’m afraid this is going from bold way into the wanton range. Oh, what the hell. He brought it up.

Oh, hey, hey! I’m laughing inside at my own little sexual internal asides. For that matter, I’m actually having funny, sexy internal asides. I’m feeling confident about myself and secure in how Harm feels about me. Gee, just over 24 hours with this man and look at the wonderful things he’s done for my psyche! Does that mean that along with the pharmaceutical companies I have to alert the psychiatrists and psychologists as well?

No way. I’ll submit an anonymous paper to JAMA, Science and whatever the shrinks read, but I’m not giving this man up to science! I realize it took me all of 4 seconds to consider altruism over my personal desire. Guess that Marine training doesn’t apply to all occasions. Yet somehow I don’t feel guilty at all. As ‘energetic’ as Harm is, even he couldn’t satisfy all the insomniatic, depressed and anxiety-ridden people in this country. Hey, did I just think ‘people’? I doubt Harm would have any interest in extending his special therapy to people of the male gender.

“Besides,” I conclude most rationally, “it’s getting kinda late for a big lunch. Let’s plan on having an early big dinner.”

Just then I realize Harm has steered us to a vendor’s cart. It smells delicious. Fish chowder, crab cakes, crab salad, roasted potatoes. I may swoon. I see the mischievous boy barely there grin. The one he really tries to hide ‘cause it gives away so much.

“How long have we been standing here Harm?”

“Don’t you know?”, all innocence. Yeah, right. There’s this bridge in Brooklyn...

“Haven’t a clue. And if you try to bust my chops about it you’ll be sorry,” gotta get that last in just pro forma.

I see this coming like the wind up and the pitch in the World Series. Harm can not let this opportunity to poke fun at my whole internal clock thing go by. He crosses his arms over his chest (hey wait, that’s closing off my territory!). Leaving his elbows where they are, he brings his right hand up to stroke his chin. He sighs. (He may be real good at impersonating a sex-crazed teenager but I’m much better at those resigned sighs, ask any reviewer.) Eyes lifted toward the heavens, he moves his right hand into that oh-so-familiar forefinger along the cheek with thumb supporting the chin.

“Anytime this afternoon, Harm.” Yes, I let a mite of exasperation tinge my tone. “I asked you how long we’d been standing here, not the answer to ‘what is the meaning of life’’.

The vendor starts handing Harm packages. “Your first question’s kinda tough, all I know is it was long enough for me to order our lunches and listen to you primly proposition me. The second one is easy: you and me together, and whatever family we may be blessed with.”

He says this so matter-of-factly as he’s handing me a bag and a Styrofoam cup I’m astonished. I keep wondering if I passed out when he walked into his apartment Saturday morning and these are just pleasant drug- and coma-induced dreams (I knew I should have called the paramedics first and not waited for Harriet or Bud or Sturgis to figure out). Or if this is really happening.
“Let’s sit on this bench, what d’ya say?” Harm indicates a bench overlooking the sea and sand.

“I got you a cup of chowder, a crab cake and some potatoes. Hope that’s OK.”

Life couldn’t get much more OK. “That sounds great, Harm. Thanks.”

We munch quietly, watching the waves break on the shore.

“This is nice, Mac, don’t you think?”

“I think this is as nice as it gets Harm.”

“You ready to go back to our room. I think I spied a place called Body Spa back that way. We could get some bubble bath and relax a bit. Maybe figure out where to have a nice dinner.”

Relax a bit. Yeah we’ll relax just shortly after another ‘energetic’ encounter. The only question is bath before and quick shower after, or long bath after (which will probably still need to be followed by a quick shower). Jeez, he’s 40 and I’m 36, where is all this sexual energy coming from?

As we’re walking up the steps to the Manly Arms, Harm stops me with a look that says he knows precisely what I was thinking. Even more accurately than last Friday when he caught me daydreaming about watching his six while we ran together.

“You know Mac. Even before Einstein there were great theoretical thinkers that postulated universal truths that have held even to this day.”

He looks so earnest but I know this is code. Hey, I invented the code. But I’ll go along. I nod like the good undergraduate student to his kindly professor.

“Every action has a reaction.”

I blink. I hope, I hope, I hope he means what I think he means.

Sagely, he lowers his face to mine and gently says “If you store energy for eight years, when you start to release it you have to just let it go. And when it’s been stored for eight years...” if he ever wants to teach at the Academy they’ll hang on his every word. Well, maybe not like me right now, but he has a great professorial delivery. “...when it’s been stored for eight years, it’s takes a very, very, very long time for it to wear out.” He looks at me with a sincerity that is hard to disbelieve, and a seductive undercurrent that is impossible to ignore. “If ever.”

You know, I was never really big on theoretical physics when I was in school, but I’m beginning to develop a strong affinity for it.

fini, for now, may be more later