A/N: OK, so this turned into Jackie's story challenge. It starts during the episode "Shifting Sands" and involves some rather angry sex. I was apparently in a mood! It's nothing more graphic than what I've posted before…they're just more pissed off…anyway, the challenge line will appear in bold, but you won't see it until the third chapter. I'll be posting them all one after the other—I wrote it all out first because I didn't want to leave them all mad!

Shifting Sands

Chapter 1: Wrong

1727 Local

Harm's Apartment

North of Union Station

When he finally enters me, I'm so wet and ready that he is able to bury himself completely inside me with a single thrust. The hot length of him reaches all the way to my womb and he doesn't even wait for me to get used to his girth before he pulls part way out and then pounds back into me with a grunt. The back of my head hits the wall he's holding me up against, but I don't care; my nails are digging into the back of his neck and I claw at him, surely leaving angry scratches in my wake. Our need is primal, animalistic, as we finally consummate this 'thing' between us. It isn't in any way like I had dreamed it would be…this, our first coupling.

I had pictured it happening here at his loft, yes, but I'd always imagined him carrying me to his bed and gently laying me down on a mattress strewn with rose petals. Well, maybe the rose petals are a bit much, but ever since we met in a rose garden, in every one of my fantasies, there are petals. He'd hover over me, smiling, and then ever so gently lower himself into me. We'd savor the feeling of being so intimately connected; I'd be so exquisitely full with him, and then we'd make love, slowly…sweetly, and when it was over there'd be mutual declarations of love.

There aren't going to be any declarations of love this time, though I know I still love him with every fiber of my being. At this moment, we are more combatants than lovers—he pushes; he takes, and I push and take in return. We're both in attack mode and he's rough with me; it's as if he can't plunge deep enough or fast enough or hard enough to satisfy a bottomless need. It's actually a little painful, and yet it also feels so good that I can't help but scream his name and urge him on.

Harm doesn't say anything; there's only grunts and gasps and moans, perhaps a hiss or two when my nails slash across his neck and back more savagely.

His mouth, which has certainly not been idle during our battle, is hot on my skin as it travels over my face, my neck, and back to my lips. He claims my mouth, and our tongues duel for long moments until he pulls away to breathe. I can't resist capturing his lower lip before he can move too far away; I pull it into my mouth and suck on it, teasing it with my teeth before I let him go, and he moans my name, the first coherent word he's spoken since he first plunged inside me. He drags his his open mouth over my jaw, and it burns me with its warm wetness and then I feel his tongue follow the rim of my ear as I whimper into his.

Meanwhile, his thrusts have grown more fevered and I know I'm close; I tell him so and he begins to grind his pubic bone against me at the end of every push. I can feel that familiar warmth and pressure of release building within me, but I know I don't want this to end so soon. Feeling him thick inside me is overwhelming every nerve ending in my body; even though this coupling is filled with anger and lust, I know I'll be bereft when he pulls away. After this I doubt we'll even see each other again, much less join our bodies in this ancient ritual, so I try to hold myself back from the edge. I can see Harm's intense concentration mirrored in his face, and I tell myself he doesn't want this to end either. Suddenly, however, Harm thrusts into me almost violently, and my back once again slams hard against the wall. I feel the area between my legs ignite, the sensation spreading up through my belly to my breasts as he gives a guttural shout and empties himself into me.

Moments later, I have no idea what time it is or how much time has passed since we started this surrender to our baser instincts. I can only feel Harm spasm inside me as I continue to squeeze his length with my inner muscles. He grinds his pelvis against me a few more times and then he just holds me, while the only sound in the loft is our rapid, heavy panting as we cling to one another.

Eventually, I can feel Harm's manhood slipping from my body and I tighten my legs around him to keep him with me a little longer. His chest still heaves against mine, the rise and fall of it teasing my nipples through the lace of my bra. They are overly sensitive now and I want to to be skin to skin with him.

As our breathing slows, he shifts so that his forehead rests against mine. I can feel his eyes on me but I don't want to meet them with mine; doing so would force us to acknowledge what we've just done.

I don't want that.

To acknowledge it would require us to admit that we've destroyed years of friendship and even love for a stolen moment of fu—no, I will not say the word. It had to have meant more than that, but I'm still filled with shame. I don't want to gaze into those ever-changing eyes and see my shame reflected back to me, nor do I want to see the anger and disgust I saw when he first let me into his apartment.

It's his whisper of my name that startles me into opening my eyes. I'm immediately greeted by icy blue-grey irises, and what I see breaks the last bit of my heart.

There's regret. He didn't want this…or else he doesn't want it anymore…we've used each other and we both know it, and, just like my father said, I'm nothing more than a tramp.

I have to get out of here.

I slide my hands down from around his neck and push at his shoulders. He doesn't move for a moment, and I hear the beginnings of a sob in my voice as I beg, "Harm, please…"

It's then that he slides out of me and the loss of him leaves me more than just physically empty. He steadies me as I unwrap my legs from his torso, letting go when my feet are safe on the ground. That's when I feel something run down my leg and I'm reminded of how reckless my behavior has just been. I'm not worried about disease, nor am I worried about pregnancy as I had an IUD placed before I left for Paraguay, but Harm doesn't know that. Both of us are meticulous about using protection (I've learned this about him from both Rene and Jordan; they seemed to delight in discussing sex with Harm in front of me) and yet today I didn't give it a single thought. It makes me feel tawdry and frankly a little dirty.

Harm is still standing less than an inch from me, blocking any escape I could make, and at any rate, I can't leave without getting myself back together first.

"Harm," I whisper, unable to look him in the eye. "I need to, um…" I motion toward the bathroom with my head and he steps aside with a silent nod. His eyes stay on me until I disappear up the steps.

I want nothing more than to break down and cry, but the glass blocks that divide his sleeping and bathroom area don't afford me much privacy and I won't let Harm see how this has affected me.

Cleaning up after the most intense yet saddest sexual encounter I've ever had brings on new feelings of humiliation, and despite my efforts, I single tear escapes down my cheek. I angrily brush it aside and double my efforts to get myself presentable, not remembering until the last minute that I no longer have my blouse on. It's ridiculous, but I find myself rooted in place in front of the sink, too embarrassed to just walk out in my bra and skirt. It doesn't matter that he's already seen me like this, that he's had his hands on my body, that he's been inside me. Now, when shame has taken over my emotions, I don't want him to see me as the loose woman I feel I've become.

About five minutes later (my time sense is still scrambled), I hear Harm's soft voice outside. It startles me so I don't answer right away, and then he calls to me again.

"Mac, are you alright?"

His gentle inquiry makes my eyes fill with tears again and it takes me a moment to ask him to find my shirt for me. I hear him go down the stairs to rummage around the living room, while I remember the moment he pushed it off my shoulders and tossed it away…

Harm's fingers work furiously at the buttons of my blouse. They're tiny things and I'm amazed when his large hands don't fumble with them. His mouth follows and he nips and sucks at my skin until he releases the last button, and then his hands move up to cup my breasts through the lace of my bra. He kneads at them and then he covers my nipple with his mouth, his tongue swirling over the fabric, suckling at until it forms a hardened peak before moving it to my other breast. I can't help my moan of pleasure which ends in a cry as his teeth close over that nipple. He doesn't bite down hard by any means but the exquisite pleasure/pain of it sends a shock to my core. I know I'm wet and I'm glad I chose to forgo wearing panties. They'd be soaked by now, of that I have no doubt, especially after his callused hands move to my shoulders and push the blouse off my arms. He flings it away, and I have no idea where it lands. I expect him to unhook my bra next…

He doesn't…

Instead, his hands move under my skirt and cup my six, and when he realizes I'm not wearing anything there, his groan echoes through his loft. He roughly yanks me closer to grind his arousal against my pelvis as he pulls one hand from my backside. It never breaks contact with my skin; he merely moves it around to my front to cover my mound and I completely forget that seconds ago all I wanted was for him to free my breasts. Coherent thought ends entirely when his fingers probe at my entrance, and then I'm suddenly screaming out his name.

I wait in the bathroom for Harm, expecting any moment for him to toss my shirt to me, but after several moments it doesn't seem like he will. I get brave and step to the top of his stairs, and I see him standing in the middle of the living room, his clothing put back to rights, my top in his hands, and he's just staring down at it, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Harm?" I call to him, and he slowly lifts his head. I unconsciously try to cover myself with my arms as he walks toward me. I hold the arm that was covering my belly out for my blouse, but he shakes his head.

"Here," he whispers, motioning for me to turn around. His hands are gentle now as he helps me put my top on, and they brush across my shoulders as he pulls away.

My hands tremble as I button myself back up and I curse those tiny buttons that Harm undid so easily before. When I finally have that accomplished, I turn and brush past Harm. He catches my arm and tries to stop me, but at my anguished, "Please, Harm," he lets me go, and soon I'm stepping out into the warmth of the day. The sun is shining, yet all I feel is cold, and it's a long trip back to my apartment.

I'm proud of myself, though; I manage to wait until I'm home and in my shower before I completely break down.

End Chapter 1