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Unconditional Love 11: A Night Out
Rating: IM15
Summary: The weekend comes, and Harm, Mac and Gibbs begin to lay their
trap.
Spoilers: Anything up to the season finale is fair game.
Disclaimer: See Part 1
Saturday Night
Mike’s Bar, Norfolk, VA
Gibbs busied himself wiping the spilled beer from the bar. Judging from
appearances, this bar did a booming business with the sailors who were in port.
He peered across the smoky room and spotted Harm, nursing a drink in a back
booth.
He hadn’t seen Matheson come in yet tonight. He glanced at his watch. 2100
hours. Mac should be making her appearance any time now.
“Hey there, bartender! What does a girl have to do to get a drink?” Mac’s voice,
louder than usual, carried over the noise of the crowd. Gibbs paused as he took
in her appearance. Gone was the buttoned-up Marine colonel. Tonight’s Mac was
wearing a skirt slit halfway up her thigh, and low-cut tank top, and plenty of
makeup. “What are you looking at? Haven’t you ever seen a woman before?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Gibbs went into his bartender routine. “What would you
like?”
“Stoly. On the rocks, with a twist of lime. I’ve had a really shitty day, and I
want to get the party started.” She smacked her hands on the table. “Now.”
Gibbs pulled out a bottle from under the table. It had the right label, but was
filled with water instead of vodka. He quickly poured a glass and put a lime in
it. “That will be $4.50. Do you want to start a tab, or pay now?”
She laid her hand on his. “Put it on a tab. The name’s Amy Harrison. Petty
Officer Harrison.” She spat out the rank with venom. She tossed the drink back
and slammed the glass back down on the bar. “Give me another, bartender.” She
smiled at him. “The night is just beginning.”
Two hours later, Mac had downed nine “drinks” and was leaning against the bar,
swaying to the music blaring in the background. “You know what sucksh?” she
slurred her words slightly. Gibbs had to give her credit – she knew how to play
the role.
He played along. “What’s bothering you?”
“You can’t get anywhere in thish man’s Navy unlesh you’ve got the right equap-
equipment.” She waggled a finger at him. “And I don’t mean life jackets.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Gibbs saw Matheson walking through the door,
accompanied by three or four burly guys. Bodyguards, most likely. He lifted an
eyebrow at Mac. She nodded.
“I’ve played it shtraight for too long with those bastardz, and look where it’s
gotten me? Nowhere!” She grumbled and held her empty glass up to Gibbs. He took
it from her and refilled it.
“So I’ve deshi- decided to have fun. If I’m going to be low man, ‘scuse me,
woman on the totem pole, I might as well have fun being there. What wash it
Garth Brooks said? I’ve got friendzz in low plashes?” She raised her glass in a
mock toast. “Here’s to the new me!”
Another glass clinked against hers. “I’ll drink to that.” Eric Matheson had
sidled up next to Mac, and his eyes wandered up her body and paused at her
cleavage. From the back of the room, Harm seethed, but stayed in his seat.
Matheson was doing exactly what they had hoped he would.
“Do you mind if I sit here next to you?”
“Shu- sure,” she replied.
“I haven’t seen you around here before,” he stated. “You in the Navy?”
“For now, I am. I’m Amy Harrison. Jusht in on the Seahawk.”
“I’m Eric Matheson. And did you know, you are the prettiest woman in here
tonight?”
Mac flirted back. “Really? Then how come no one’s ashked me to dance or
anything?”
Mac tried not to flinch when he slid an arm around her waist. “Maybe they just
don’t have good taste. So, you wanna dance?”
“Well, I was about to blow this joint. Too tame for me tonight. I want to
party.”
“Just one dance?”
She relented. “All right.” She stood up from the barstool and wobbled. “Woo.
Nice head rush. Save my seat, bartender.” They wove through the crowd to the
dance floor.
Harm watched Matheson pull Mac against him and grind his hips against hers. He
gritted his teeth. We better get this bastard, or I might kill him myself,
he thought.
To Part 12
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