PART 21

HARM AND MAC’S HOUSE
WILLESDEN GREEN
LONDON, NW2
21 DECEMBER 2007
1813 ZULU

Mac didn’t hear Harm enter the house. She was clanking dishes in the kitchen and had the BBC on in the background for distraction.

Her son however, although he didn’t hear his father’s approach, looked up from his Brio train set when he saw the pair of dark shoes suddenly appear in the archway between the front foyer and living room. Two sets of identical eyes quickly searched each other for recognition. For Harm’s part, he knew the child on the floor in front of him was his son, but he had changed so much… thinner… so much baby fat gone from his face.

Evan, for his part, scanned the memory banks of his young mind and came up with only one label that fit. “Daddy?”

Harm smiled and squat down to his son’s level – arms outstretched as his son flew across the room and into them.

Mac had heard the word come out of Evan’s mouth and spun around to catch the sight of Harm scooping their son up into his arms. As he stood up, their eyes locked. Mac’s eyes filled with tears as she brought her hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. As much as she wanted to keep their eye connection, she was drawn to him by an overpowering urge to touch him. Harm held out a free arm as she tucked herself into his shoulder and drew in a deep breath. ‘God it’s real’ she thought as she took in his unmistakable scent.

No words were spoken for many seconds until Evan started impatiently bouncing and imploring Harm to put him down. He immediately ran over to where he had been playing before and knelt down in front of the train set again.

“Look Daddy – look what Unca Bud got fo’ me!” He looked up to show him a wooden train car proudly, but his father was completely occupied for the moment - slowly and completely kissing the daylights out of his mother. Something in the back of his mind registered that he hated it when they did this. Sighing over-dramatically, he jumped over his train set, car in hand, and wrapped himself around Harm’s long leg. A hand came down from it’s former place at the side of Mac’s face and ruffled the boy’s hair. The kiss however, continued for some time.

Finally they broke apart. Harm felt his son abandon his spot on his left leg and wrapped his now free hand behind Mac’s lower back to join the other one. He pulled her in tightly, closed his eyes and just rubbed his face against hers….lightly brushed his closed eye against her cheek, his lips across her forehead, then his other eye against her other cheek on the other side… until their lips found each other again.

Who knows how long they would have remained in their little bubble if their son hadn’t become fed up and taken it upon himself to move the conversation along.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy!”

Harm and Mac almost jumped out of their respective skins simultaneously. Foreheads together they smiled quietly and Harm turned his head towards his son. “Yes Evan?”

The boy mustered the biggest, cheesiest grin he could, held up the toy train car and proclaimed again, “Look what Unca Bud got fo’ me!”

Several hours later, Mac stood at the doorway to her son’s room and watched her husband tuck their son into bed. As relieved as she was to finally have him home, he seemed distracted… sad… almost…well, ‘fragile’ was the only word that consistently popped into her mind. A strange description based on the fact that his upper body had now nearly doubled it’s former muscle content. She had noticed several times in the few hours he had been home, that he seemed lost in thought at times, staring off into space. She felt like if she raised her voice too loudly, he might shatter at any moment.

Although she’d felt like standing in the doorway and watching the both of them forever, she took the opportunity to go and change the sheets in their bedroom - thinking that Harm might appreciate the fresh linen for his first night home. She had come to learn a long time ago that one of his favourite things in the whole world was the smell of linen dried outside on the clothes line. She had discovered this one time when she was still dating Mic. She had forwarded Harm one of those chain emails that was meant to let your friends get to know you better. The kind of email that was just a list of questions you were meant to answer and then send out to ten of your friends, including the one who had sent it to you in the first place. Mac had never expected to get it back from him filled out – maybe she only had because the last question had been ‘Person you least expect to send this back to you’ and she had of course put ‘Harm’. He never could back down from a challenge.

One of the questions had been ‘Favourite smell’ and he had answered ‘laundry dried on a line’. She had always remembered it because 1) it was the only question he had actually answered seriously; and 2) it had made him seem suddenly that much more human.

Although he’d never actually said anything since they’d been married, and although she rarely dried *all* their laundry out on the line, she always made a special effort to dry the sheets out on the line – even in winter. She always took a particular joy in it when Harm would flop into bed on his stomach, nuzzle his face into a pillow and take a gigantic breath through his nose. He would then look up at her out of the corner of one eye and give her one of his little impish smiles that seemed to say ‘…you remembered.’

She lay propped up in bed reading, waiting for Harm to finish locking up, and looked up smiling as he came into the room. The whole scene seemed so surreal – like the last six months had never happened. They had simply snapped back into their old routine without missing a beat - the only difference she noticed was when he whipped his shirt off over his head – she actually gasped. “Wow….you’ve….uh, been working out.”

He looked down and smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess I had some unresolved anger issues…” He winked at her quickly as he looked up, then he flopped down on his stomach in the bed and breathed in deeply through his nose. She waited for the look from him that she knew was coming, but it never came. Instead he opened his eyes to just stare directly into her hip. She couldn’t quite place the look in his eye – but if she’d had to, she’d have to guess it was a cross between overwhelming gratitude and overwhelming sadness.

Suddenly he propped himself up on his elbow and began tracing her forearm with his finger, sending chills up Mac’s spine. He remained staring at her arm as he began to speak. “Mac?”

“Yes?”

“You know I love you, don’t you?”

The statement caused her to bend forward to try and catch his eye, but he wasn’t co-operating. “Of course, Harm.”

He took a deep breath and still didn’t meet her eye. “Do you mind if… I mean… this all still hasn’t sunk in yet… like I don’t really know where I am. Would you mind if… would you just… hold me tonight?”

She paused only momentarily before she responded soothingly “Of course, Harm.”

Before she could even slip down in the bed to his level, he simply leaned forward and kissed the inside of her palm and then placed his head on her lap. He snuggled in, wrapping his arm around her thigh and finally bending his long leg and hooking it gently over hers – pulling them snug into him. Mac smiled sadly as she hugged him closer. She noticed that object of her former fantasies – that damned vein that snaked down his right arm – was suddenly right there for her to touch. She decided she was much better off to leave it be until she could use it the way she wanted.

As it turned out, it was the next night before they finally made love. Mac was a little concerned, but she didn’t want to push him. She thought she could guess why he couldn’t make a move before that. She guessed it had to do with all the times near the beginning of his incarceration where he had dreamed of her, only to have to wake up in a prison cell alone. Mac supposed he wanted to make damn sure of where he was before he allowed himself the pleasure that he knew would go to great lengths to make him whole again if it was real – and might just break him entirely if it wasn’t.

That night had started the same as the night before. Harm took up his position on her lap as soon as he got into bed and remained that way until they both fell asleep. When she woke up later on that night however, he was gone. Squelching a moment of panic, Mac got up to search the house for him - she didn’t have to go far. Harm was standing in the doorway to their son’s room, just watching him sleep. He turned to look at her with a brief, guilty look as she approached.

“Sorry – I was having trouble sleeping.”

“That’s OK. I know the feeling.”

Harm flashed a millisecond of a flyboy smile that was more in his eyes than on his lips. There was a long period where they both stood there looking into the room, not speaking.

“He won, Mac.”

“He doesn’t have to, Harm.”

Harm leaned dejectedly back on to the wall in the hallway. “How can you say that? He just proved that I’m completely unable to protect my family. He took you both away from me just as easily as if he’d waltzed in here and threw both of you over his shoulder while I just stood there helplessly.” There was a slight pause as the words sunk in. “He stole *six months* from us, Mac… six months we’ll never be able to get back…”

“Stop it, Harm.”

Harm turned to her, suddenly shocked. “Stop what?”

Mac turned towards him. “Stop wallowing.” She said it as forcefully as she could at a whisper – conscious of the sleeping boy inside the room.

Harm’s mouth was left hanging open – it was the last thing he’d expected to hear from her. He suddenly closed his mouth and turned his head away from her to stare out at the blackness through the window at the end of the hall.

After a brief silence, Mac suddenly spoke softly. “Harm, do you remember what my favourite movie is?”

“Of course I do” Harm snapped – slightly miffed that she’d thought he would forget something like that. “It’s Casablanca – how could I forget? You’ve made me watch it at least eight times.”

Mac smiled. “Do you remember what Bogie says to Peter Lorre at the beginning, just before Ugarte gets arrested?” She didn’t wait for him to respond, she just continued. “Peter Lorre asks Bogie ‘You despise me, don’t you?’ and Bogie replies…???”

Harm gave Mac a sideways glance, suddenly aware that she was waiting for him to supply the answer. Harm smiled sheepishly and attempted his best Bogart impersonation, “Yes, if I ever gave you any thought, I probably would.”

Mac grinned happily – impressed that he had actually been paying attention all those nights. “See? Now I always thought that was the best comeback ever. Not only did he say that he despised the man, but that he thought so little of him, he never even wasted the time to *consider* whether he hated him or not.”

She stepped closer to Harm and put her hands on his arms – suddenly aware of how different his upper arms felt. She unconsciously started rubbing her hands up and down the bulging muscles there. “That’s what you have to do with Palmer, Harm. I know it’s hard, but if you keep reminding yourself of what he can do to you, then he’s definitely won. He wants you to stay in that Wilderness of Mirrors and that’s exactly what you’re doing by letting this bother you.”

“Mac – how do you expect me to be fine with the fact that something horrible could happen to you two at any moment and I’m powerless to stop it?”

“Harm” Mac’s voice was soothing in contrast to Harm’s strained whisper. “Honey, all of *life* is a Wilderness of Mirrors. Something horrible could happen to any one of us at any time and we’re *all* powerless to stop it. Sure Palmer stole six months out of our life, but he’s going to take more if you continue let this eat at you. The only way Palmer isn’t going to win is if you think like Bogie and not give Palmer another thought. I know it’s hard but you *have* to Harm. You have to just let it go and enjoy what we have here – God knows nine years of this has already been stolen from us due to our *own* stubbornness. Now we’re up to nine years and six months…” she took a step forward so her body was flush with his, and spoke just inches from his face. “…don’t Harm. Don’t let another minute of our happiness be taken away from us…”

Her sentence was cut off by Harm’s mouth on hers.
--------
Twenty-five minutes later, back in their bed, Mac struggled to get her breathing back under control. Suddenly she heard the little voice break through the fog in her mind.

“Mummy!”

Still breathing heavily himself and trying to regain some semblance of composure, Harm dropped his head down and wiped the sweat from his brow onto his wife’s chest.

“Hey!” she cried out indignantly.

Harm grinned at her. “Yeah, well that’s what you get for waking up the baby.”

“Me?! How are you so sure it was me? The last time I looked, there was two of us involved in this little tête à tête.”

Harm just raised an eyebrow at her “Ma-ac. I know that you think I’ve got a big ego, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t me screaming out my own name.”

Mac just giggled. “Damn. Was that me?”

Harm slid up close to her lips and rumbled “Oh yeah.”

“Oh great. Now I’m personally responsible for tripling the size of your ego.”

“No Mac” he responded in a husky voice, “you’re just personally responsible for tripling the size of my…”

“MUMMY!!!”

Mac dissolved into laughter as Harm rolled off of her with a smile. “Well he’s definitely got your sense of timing.” She grabbed her robe off of the back of the door and dodged a pillow that had locked onto her position. As she tied her robe, her eyes her husbands’ and for the first time since he’d been home, she was sure that he was going to be alright.

“Hey Mac?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.” The unspoken thoughts he sent meant to convey that he was thanking her for the pep-talk – for grounding him once more and putting things in perspective – not for the little tryst that they had recently enjoyed.

Mac, although she received the non-verbal message, chose instead to tease him. “Oh it was *my* pleasure Flyboy – I assure you.” She winked at him saucily over her shoulder.

HARM AND MAC’S HOUSE
WILLESDEN GREEN
LONDON, NW2
22 DECEMBER 2007
1010 ZULU

That morning, Gibbs had shown up on their doorstep.

He waved off Harm’s offering of coffee, “I won’t be staying long, but I thought you might like to hear this little piece of information first hand.”

He nodded Gibbs to the couch as he sat himself in the chair by the window. No sooner had Harm sat down than he was back on his feet, picking several ‘Star Wars’ action figures off of the cushion. Cursing Bud under his breath, he threw them all in the toy box against the wall, inadvertently triggering the ‘Buzz Lightyear’ and causing it to proclaim ‘To infinity and beyond!’

Harm feigned exasperation and sat down heavily. Gibbs just smiled at him in an amused way. “Missed this, didn’t you?”

Harm couldn’t suppress the wistful grin. “More than I could ever put into words.”

Mac leaned against the kitchen doorway and grinned from ear to ear – thanking above for the thousandth time in the last two days that he was home. “What’s the news, Jethro?”

“Palmer’s dead.”

Harm and Mac both jerked up straight. “What?!” they retorted in tandem.

Gibbs just nodded his head, slightly amused.

“Are you positive?” Harm was unwilling to believe anything that had to do with Clark Palmer. “I want to see the body.”

“I’m not sure that can be arranged, but I’ll see what I can do. I assure you, it’s him. I saw the body myself. So did Clayton Webb. I won the coin toss to get to be the one to tell you guys.”

Harm and Mac eyed each other warily as she came around to sit beside him on the arm of the chair. They both wanted to believe, but were wary. The fact that Webb substantiated the story didn’t go all that far to prove anything to Harm, even though he knew that Webb knew Palmer, and knew he could identify the body positively.

“Webb will always be a spook. I will forever take his word with a grain of salt.” Harm said bitterly. He shook his head slowly as if thinking and then turned his face up to Gibbs’ “How did it happen?”

Gibbs’ amused smile returned once again. “He choked on a hot dog in the middle of the prison cafeteria.”

Both Harm and Mac’s jaws fell simultaneously and they looked at each other.

Suddenly, all Mac could think about was that during one of her meetings with Uncle Matt, she’d relayed to him all Harm had ever told her about the time Palmer had held him hostage – including that line Palmer had used about making someone choke to death on a hot dog at a baseball game. She tried to make her voice sound as innocent as possible. “So… it was ruled an accident then?”

“It was…” Gibbs said slowly, “…however it *was* a little suspicious.”

Harm and Mac eyed each other again.

“How so?”

“Well, Palmer choked on the hot dog because his throat constricted due to a peanut allergy.”

“He put peanut butter on his hot dog?”

“No – Palmer knew that he had a peanut allergy so he wouldn’t have done that. However, they found traces of peanut oil on the hotdog.” Gibbs paused for effect and then continued, “Funny thing is, the prison cafeteria doesn’t use peanut oil.”

END PART 21