Title:  “Mining”

Author:  Heather Aster

Time Frame:  Post Season 7 cliffhanger

 

Author’s notes:

1)      At the time this was written (“Enemy Below”), all we knew about Bud was that he was injured by a land mine.  We had no idea what the timeline was.  I decided to write based on the notion that it happened AFTER Harm, Mac and Sturgis had already left the Sea Hawk and were all back in Washington.  (Unfortunately, I was wrong in my guess, and Harm, Mac and Sturgis were just packing to leave the battle group when Season 8 premiered with “Critical Condition”.)

2)      The three parts to this story are titled with terminology from real mines.  An “Adit” is the actual entrance of the mine.  The “Shaft” is that long, dark tunnel that leads you down into the mine.  “Assay” is the process of placing value on what you’ve dug up.  I thought these were apt metaphors for what Harm and Mac experience in this story, plus the double meaning of “mine” in relation to Bud’s injury.

3)      The meat of the story is a long conversation between Harm and Mac about all the highlights and lowlights between them, from the perspective of post-season-7.   

 

Part 1, “Adit”

 

Mac sipped lazily at her tea as she sat sideways in the big, soft armchair in the small, cozy living room.  Her legs were thrown over one arm of the chair and she gripped an escapist paperback romance.  An uncertain breeze worked it’s way into the room from the open window.   It was unseasonably cool, and threatening rain, but she didn’t care.  She was glad to have this weekend to herself, “away from it all.”

 

After she, Harm and Sturgis had returned from their stint across the world two days ago, she had decided to take some leave to clear her head.  A little R&R before jumping back into the fray at JAG.  So she retreated to her “secret hideaway”, a small loft apartment above a garage on a farm outside of Manassas.  Owned by a DC neighbor, it was offered to her whenever she needed it.  There was no television or phone, and few intrusions from the outside world.  Only a few of her co-workers knew her cell phone number, and only one knew where to find her.

 

The subtle rumble of a vehicle several hundred yards up the gravel lane caught her attention, but she dismissed it thinking it was probably the farmhand she had seen yesterday.  The rumble slowed as it got nearer the driveway, and the deliberate crunch of tires under the window made her sit up straight.  Instinctively she glanced across the room to where her sidearm was stored in her duffel before walking quickly to the window.

 

Crossing the room, she heard the vehicle pull to a stop, the engine cut out, and the parking brake creak into place.  Just before the door opened, she thought she caught a faint wisp of jazz music - or was it blues? She could never tell the difference.  She glanced down at the familiar, platinum SUV just as the tall, dark-haired driver stepped out.  She stepped out onto the porch and watched as he went around the back of the vehicle to retrieve several grocery bags.  

 

When she first saw it was Harm coming to see her, she was more than a little bit pleased at the prospect of his arrival, but the blatant assumption that those grocery bags represented had turned her pleasure to irritation.  She furrowed her brows and folded her arms.  Did he think she couldn’t take care of herself?  Or maybe that he was inviting himself over for the weekend?  She shook the negative assumptions out of her head, writing them off to lingering stress.  He climbed the steps toward her, not looking up until he was close to the top.  As he reached the top step she finally noticed the absence of his usual self-satisfied stride and the tired, almost sad, expression in his eyes.  Something was wrong.

 

“Hey, Mac,” he offered half-heartedly as he reached the top.

 

“Hey,” she replied in a worried and wary tone.

 

“I’m sorry to interrupt your weekend.  I know how important it is to you, but we’ve got to talk.”

 

She considered the sadness in his eyes and earnestness in his voice, and the questions started to swirl in her head. 

 

“Come in.”

 

“Thanks.”  Harm walked past her to the small kitchen area and began to put the cold food in the small fridge.  Mac noticed he didn’t chide her on her supply of frozen dinners and other “comfort foods” she had brought.  His quiet demeanor intrigued and unnerved her.

 

Watching him curiously, she asked, “What’s wrong, Harm?” Her worries were increasing.

 

He didn’t reply, but just shrugged off his jacket and took her hand, leading her to the small couch to sit down.  His face was unreadable.

 

“Harm, you’re scaring me.  What’s wrong?”

 

“I have some bad news, Mac,” he began without looking at her.  Mac’s brain whirled faster.  He wouldn’t come all the way out here, without calling, just to tell her bad news.  Whatever it was, it must be really bad.

 

“Harm?” 

 

He looked up at her, saw the questions in her eyes, and gulped.  This would be so much harder than he had expected, but he had to do it.  He groped for the words for a moment before forging ahead.

 

“Remember our little excursion in the minefield?”

 

“Yeah . . .”

 

“We were pretty lucky, weren’t we.”

 

“Yeah, we were.”  Now Mac was not just scared, she was confused, but didn’t know what else to do but play along.

 

Harm rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair.  It was a vain attempt to wipe away the dull ache forming between his temples.  He searched her face, finding relief in knowing that it was Mac to whom he was delivering this news.

 

“Bu-”  Harm’s voice caught in his throat.  He lowered his eyes and his voice. “Bud wasn’t so lucky.”

 

Mac’s eyes grew wide.  “What?” she replied, surprised by the catch in her own throat.  “I don’t understand.  What are you talking about?”

 

“He was in country yesterday near the site of a school our troops had hit by accident.  He was trying to help a child and stepped on a mine.  He’s lost his right leg from the knee down.”

 

It was all he had the strength to say at the moment.  Elbows on knees, he put his face in his hands and tried to keep some measure of composure.  The news hung in the air between them and he heard Mac gasp, “Oh, my God,” as it sunk in.  He bit his lip to steel himself.  Seeing Mac in pain always struck him deeply.  He wanted to be strong for her, but it didn’t help that he had his own shock and sadness to deal with as well.

 

“Oh, my God,” Mac said again, rubbing her arms as if chilled.  Her stunned expression revealed the horror and disbelief she felt.  Harm reached over and put his arm around her shoulders.  He didn’t know if it was to comfort her or himself, but it seemed to help them both.  Mac leaned into him reflexively, and he also began to feel the tension in his own shoulders ease as the pent-up emotions began to surface.  He had been holding his composure for hours since he’d heard the news.  It was a welcome relief to let down his guard in the presence of a trusted friend.

 

He turned toward her and they looked at each other, and saw their own sadness, questions and confusion reflected the others’ eyes.  Instinctively they wrapped their arms around each other and held on tight. 

 

“Oh, my God, oh, my God,” Mac whispered over and over into Harm’s shoulder.

 

“I know, Mac.  It’s a hell of a thing to happen.”

 

“Damnit!” Mac breathed, a lump forming in her throat.  She freed herself from Harm’s embrace and went to stand by the window.  Dark clouds scudded across the sky.  Mac’s mood darkened as the news of her wounded friend crept into her peaceful afternoon.  She had held her emotions in check for the past several weeks through all the stress and tension at work, never letting anyone see her crack, not even Harm, though she knew he would have understood. 

 

She had planned this weekend as a time to release the stress, as if she were slowly opening a recently shaken soda bottle in order to avoid a messy spill.  Now that bottle had been given a big shake and the cap was about to fly off from the pressure.  She caught her breath as an unexpected sob rose from her chest.  She rubbed her eyes as she sniffed back a few stray tears.  For some reason she felt compelled to hold it together just a little longer.

 

Harm had unwillingly let her go from his embrace.  He knew she had to deal with the initial blow in her own way.  When he saw her distress, however, the urge to help her overcame the desire to allow a respectful distance.  He rose and took a step toward her.

 

“C’mon, Mac,” Harm said with out-stretched hand, “sit down and I’ll tell you everything we know.”

 

Mac greeted his rescuing approach with a weak half smile.  She took his hand, welcoming his touch, and sat back down next to him on the couch.

 

Harm took a deep breath.  He knew the only way to go through it again was to put on his courtroom face.

 

“Here’s what we know.  Several weeks ago, Bud had been to the site of some collateral damage to investigate.  Our planes had hit several civilian buildings by accident, including the only school for 150 kilometers.  Bud promised the village that the Navy would rebuild the school, and went back to the Sea Hawk to put in the request.  When the SeaBees arrived, Bud was asked to attend the groundbreaking.  He and Petty Officer Coates were walking along the road when they saw a small boy just inside a known minefield.  He attempted to get the boy’s attention and get him out of danger.  Coates went to get help.  She reported that she hadn’t gone 50 yards when she heard the explosion.”

 

Hearing the full story, delivered in Harm’s trained courtroom voice, allowed her to picture it in her mind.  She could see Bud standing there, calling to the boy, urging, tempting, begging the child not to move.  She could see the Afghan boy in village garb, looking at Bud with dark, cautious eyes, not understanding a word Bud said.  And she could see Bud, earnest, helpful and protective, taking that horrible first step to assist the boy, and the agonizing aftermath.

 

Her mind reeled with images conjured from experience and imagination.  She stared blankly as Harm talked, allowing herself to feel the horror and pain.  She didn’t move or speak when Harm finished.  The only suggestion that she’d heard it all was the two tears that spilled over her lashes and down her cheeks.

 

Like he’d done so often in the past, Harm reached up and stroked her cheeks with his fingers to wipe those tears away.  And just like she’d done those times in the past, she leaned her face into his strong palm and sighed. 

 

“He’s going to be alright, Mac.”

 

“I know.  I just . . it’s just . . . so terrible.”

 

“Yeah.”  

 

“Where is Bud now?” Mac asked, catching her breath and reigning in her tears.

 

“He was triaged in country, near Kandahar, before being flown back to the Sea Hawk to be stabilized - that’s where he is at the moment.  He’s going to be sent to Germany in a few days, and then Harriet can be flown over to be with him.”

 

“Oh, my God, Harm,” Mac’s initial horror ratcheted up a notch.  “Harriet!”

 

“The Admiral’s with her and Little AJ,” Harm said reassuringly.  “As are Sturgis and Bobbie, and her parents are on their way.”

 

“I should go to her,” Mac said with determination.  Now she saw a plan of action, some way she could help.

 

“No, Mac.”

 

“What?  Why?”

 

“She’ll be fine.  A Navy doctor prescribed a mild sedative for the short term.”

 

Mac stood up.  “I should still go.”

 

Harm caught her arm and gave her a calm but firm, “No.”

 

“Harm, she needs me.  She needs a trusted woman friend to talk to - someone who knows how she feels when her man is in trouble.  When your plane went down last year, I was beside myself.  I-“

 

“Mac,” Harm interrupted, “how can you know what Harriet is feeling?  She and Bud are married.  You and I -“

 

Harm’s logical reasoning stumbled over an emotional speed bump.  His eyes locked with hers.

 

“- were not,” he finished, an inkling of realization tugging at the edge of his brain.

 

Mac got up and walked to the window, shaking her head in resignation.  “Still not,” she muttered.

 

“I know.”

 

She turned and saw him looking directly at her.  Beneath the sadness of the moment, there was a flicker of possibility in his arched eyebrow, and twinge of regret in his voice.  What was he trying to tell her?

 

“Mac, don’t go back to DC now.”

 

“Give me one good reason why.”

 

“Harriet is well taken care of.  She doesn’t need you right now, Mac.  I do.”

 

Mac stared at him for a moment, not yet ready to believe that he really meant what he’d just said.  Then she looked down at her feet, realizing she had almost run away from him when he needed her.  She had vowed long ago never to do that to Harm.

 

She picked up Harm’s jacket from the chair in the kitchen and her own off the hook on the wall.  “C’mon, Harm,” she said with encouragement.  “Let’s walk.”

 

+++

 

Part 2, “Shaft”

 

They descended the stairs and turned to walk down the lane toward the back of the property.  A low, stone wall held back the brambles of the woods for a hundred yards before disappearing into the trees.  They walked in silence along the wall, absorbing the soft sounds of the countryside and the comfort of each other’s company.  Their thoughts were subdued by the clouds, which continued their slow, gray march over the tops of the trees.

 

Mac reached over and slipped her hand into Harm’s.  He returned her gentle squeeze as he looked down at her with a thoughtful mix of gratitude and deep friendship.  He hadn’t expected that small gesture - he could only ask for so much - yet he couldn’t help but recognize the tingle that skipped through him like the distant flash of lightning.  However, he chose to focus instead on the warm wash of her compassion.  He took her gesture as his cue, and began to tell her about his morning.

 

“Wish you had been at the office this morning, Mac.  Several people were pretty upset.  We could have used your even keel.”

 

“I can’t imagine I would have been much help.  You saw how I reacted when you told me.” 

 

“You’re tougher when you’re in uniform.”

 

Mac was about show offense, but caught the gentle tease in his tone.  “I’ll take that as a compliment - for now.”

 

Realizing what he’d said, Harm tried to cover his tracks.  “What I meant was -“

 

“Just tell me what happened,” she interrupted.

 

Harm took a deep breath to gather his divergent thoughts before launching into the story.  “The Admiral got a call at about 0915.   I was in with him going over the Molihan appeal, and Tiner buzzed him that it was an emergency call from the captain of the SeaHawk.  When I saw the way the Admiral’s face changed, somehow I just knew something bad had happened to Bud.”

 

“Your instincts are improving - they’re almost as good as mine,” she teased gently.

 

“Hmmph,” Harm sniffed, shaking his head.  “Not good enough to prevent Bud’s injury.”

 

She looked up at him quizzically.  His comment was very un-Harm-like, but she let it go for now.  She decided she would bring it up later, and find out what the issue was behind his words. 

 

“Then what?”

 

Harm furrowed his brows and continued.  “The Admiral told me what happened, and we both sat there for a moment, not looking at each other.  It was probably only a few seconds but it seemed like hours waiting for him to say something, give me an order, pound his desk, anything.  Then Tiner buzzed in again that Sturgis was waiting and the Admiral swung into action.

 

“He told Sturgis, then gave us our marching orders.  Sturgis and I were to quietly notify the staff, then call a corpsman and Little AJ’s daycare.  When I told him that you were out of town through the weekend, he asked if I knew how to get in touch with you.  When I told him you were hiding out in the wilds of Manassas, he said, ‘Tell the staff and then go to her.  See you on Monday.’”

 

“He said that?” Mac asked.

 

“Yeah.  I asked him if he was sure he wanted me to take two days off, he said yes, and that I probably needed it as much as you.  I wasn’t going to argue with that.”

 

“So then what?”

 

“Well, that was when he buzzed Tiner to have Harriet come to his office.  When she entered, she seemed like she was in a pretty good mood.  I think she had just gotten a good deal on new carpeting for the house or something, and was pretty proud of herself.  Anyway, I hated to know she was going to have her day - her life - pushed over a cliff.”

 

Harm paused for a moment, remembering. 

 

“Sturgis and I stood outside the Admiral’s office for a moment, waiting, until we heard it.”

 

“Heard what?”

 

“Harriet’s scream from behind the door.”  Harm winced a little when he said it.

 

“Oh, god.”  Mac was sure now that she was glad she hadn’t been there that morning, but she felt bad that Harm had to be the one to shoulder the responsibility of telling the staff.

 

“Yeah, it was rough, standing there, knowing what’s happened, and everyone looking our way all at once.  They knew we knew.  You could see it in their faces.  So we called everyone over and explained calmly what had happened.  Most took it pretty well, but a few were pretty broken up about it.”

 

“I can imagine.”

 

“I gave Sturgis my cases for the next few days, and he got on the phone to arrange things for Harriet and Little AJ.  Then he told me to beat it before the Admiral changed his mind, so I left.  He called me on my cell phone just as I was getting off I-66 to let me know they were all with Harriet and AJ and everything was fine.  I asked him if he thought you and I should return to DC, and he said no, everything was taken care of.”

 

“So I guess they decided that we should deal with it together - out here in the woods.”

 

“Guess so.”

 

Harm and Mac exchanged glances, realizing they had the weekend to themselves with no distractions - except each other.  Mac looked away nervously, remembering the groceries Harm had brought and the irritation she had felt.  She had come out here because she had wanted some time to herself.  She didn’t know if she wanted to spend three days alone with Harm.  Hadn’t they just spent a few weeks trekking through Afghanistan, just the two of them?  But of course that was in the line of duty.  This, well, this was . . . what?

 

Thinking her pause meant she was hesitant about his presence, he backpedaled nervously. “Listen, Mac.  I made reservations at the Comfort Suites near the interstate, just in case.  I’ll stay there tonight if you’d rather be alone.  I was thinking of taking “Sarah” up tomorrow if the weather is nice, help me clear my head.  You’re welcome to come, but you don’t have to decide now.  I can stop by in the morning and -“

 

“Harm,” Mac said gently, “you’re rambling.”

 

“Sorry.  I just didn’t want to impose on your weekend alone.”

 

Mac thought for a moment and considered the situation in light of the news he had brought.  She didn’t know if she wanted to deal with it by herself, and she could tell Harm needed to talk about it.  At least it was Harm, her best friend by all accounts, and someone she trusted who cared about her deeply.  Why wouldn’t she want to spend more time with him in a distressing situation?  She changed her mind. 

 

“You drove all the way out here to tell me that one of our best friends was critically injured by a land mine in Afghanistan, Harm.  After what we went through over there, do you think I could stand to be alone with that on my mind?”

 

Harm shoved his fists into his pockets, contemplating what she’d just said.  He turned his shoulder to her, determined not to let her see how very much he wanted to spend this time with her.  He decided to give her another opportunity to be sure she wanted him there.   “I’d just get in your way, Mac.  That place is so small.”

 

“Nonsense, we’ve had to deal with worse.  Besides, the couch is a sofa sleeper.”

 

“Is that an invitation?”  Harm tried to keep his voice neutral, but couldn’t help the pleased tone from escaping.  He wanted her to know he was grateful, but he certainly didn’t want her to think he would take advantage of her and the situation.

 

It was Mac’s turn to look away.  Was he baiting her?  She had used the same loaded question on him that night they were stuck in the desert not too long ago.  She studied his face, the uncharacteristic slump of his shoulders, and the cautious plea in his eyes, and decided he was sincere.

 

“Do you want one?” She lobbed back with growing peace of mind about his presence.

 

He turned to her.  “Yes.”

 

“Please stay Harm.  I need you, too.”

 

++

 

In silence they walked a little farther, and Mac led him to a place where an outcropping of rocks overlooked a babbling stream.  They sat down on the cool boulders and allowed the gentle sound of the rushing of water to surround them like a benediction.  The decision was made, and now, Mac knew, serious discussion would follow.

 

“What did you mean about your intuition,” she began quietly, “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

 

“No, it’s just that I still can’t believe something like this has happened to Bud.  It makes me wish that I could have done something - anything - to prevent it.”

 

“Yeah,” Mac nodded.

 

“I just keep thinking, why was Bud hurt and I wasn’t?”  The vexation in Harm’s voice intensified as he expressed his thoughts.  “Of all people, why him?  Something like that just shouldn’t happen to someone like Bud.”

 

Mac remembered working that case when they all learned about “key stressors”, when Bud played the bumbling assistant in the courtroom to draw out the witness, and then teased Harm with it afterwards.  Mac had seen how quickly Harm had tried to “make it right” with Bud, tossing out explanations and covering his six, and at that time, she had just chuckled along with the joke.  Now, it was clear to her how truly attached Harm was to his younger friend, and how much he cared.

 

Harm felt her hand on his shoulder and turned to look into her compassionate face - a welcome contrast to his recently upended worldview.  He was grateful for the anchor she provided with her presence and understanding, and began to wonder if it was only Bud’s injury that had him so disconcerted.  Had this incident stirred something deeper?  Something unresolved between he and Mac? 

 

He set that thought aside for the moment - he knew there would be time to concentrate on it later.  Yet he couldn’t fathom why, in the middle of this discussion of the news about Bud, he was thinking about his relationship with Mac.  He did want to discuss some things with her, but he was surprised that his thoughts of her were so commingled with his mental distress over Bud.  He decided that it was probably due to the jet lag he was still struggling with.

 

His lawyers mind began to sort quickly through some new thoughts.  The mental exhaustion he was still getting over from being in Afghanistan was what he knew Bud had been dealing with on the Sea Hawk.  There was always an avalanche of work for a carrier-based JAG officer in a war zone.  Did Bud have the ability to tough it out and stay focused?  Or would that mental exhaustion cause him to be less cautious on the edge of the minefield?  Bud had already dozed off in court recently.  Was it lack of sleep, lack of military training, or could it just be a steeper adjustment curve for Bud this time around?  He decided to run this line of thought by Mac.

 

“You and I, Mac, we’ve been trained for combat,” Harm began.  “We know the dangers, accept them, live with them.  We don’t face them everyday at JAG, but we’re not afraid to go up against them if we have to.  Bud wasn’t trained that way.  He has a lot of book knowledge about such things, and could probably give a speech about land mines.  That’s what he’s good at, it’s what makes him a good lawyer, and I know you’ve relied on his technical knowledge with cases as much as I have.  But, in practice, he’s just not trained for combat.”

 

“That’s true Harm, but he wasn’t in combat anymore than we were.  We were playing ‘Afghan Dragnet’, and Bud was inspecting new construction.  Just because you’re in country doesn’t mean you’re in combat.”

 

“Here’s what’s eating at me, Mac.  You and I had two advantages that day in the minefield - number one, the release trigger on that mine that allowed us time to find a solution; and number two, we had each other.  I’d have never been able to safely get off that mine if it hadn’t been for you.  But Bud didn’t have even one of those advantages.  He didn’t have a chance.”

 

“You feel guilty, don’t you.”

 

Harm stared at her, startled.  She had seen right down to the core of his conflict and given it a name.  In an instant he knew she was right.  “Hell, yeah,” he said.  “Here’s Bud, his first time in country during a war, doing the best job he knows how, and he gets his leg blown off.  I’ve been through so much and come so close to that final punch out so many times, but somehow I’m still here in one piece.”

 

“Give or take a few brain cells.” 

 

“Yeah, and those that are left are still a little waterlogged.”  Harm had started to feign offense, but he settled for sarcastic resignation.  He shook his head and picked up a pebble, rolling it around in his fingers.  She was probably right that he’d lost a few brain cells.  How else could he justify this strange intertwining of his sadness for Bud’s predicament and his desire for a deeper relationship her?  What was the connection? Maybe something deeper had been pulled to the surface today, and maybe they should get that out of the way before they tried to handle their feelings about Bud.  It might be easier to handle that together.

 

While she smiled at Harm’s comment, Mac knew he had a tiger by the tail trying to deal with what had happened to Bud, and comparing it to his own life.  It must be contagious because she was beginning to feel guilty, too.  She had to remind herself that in these kinds of situations you just have to accept, and hope.  She had to accept the fate of that little girl in Indonesia, and hope she was all right, and she had to accept Harm’s immanent demise that night last year when his plane went down, and hope against hope she wouldn’t have to bear that loss. 

 

Why was this situation with Bud bringing up all these parallels to that horrible night last year?  Was it because of all the unresolved issues still hanging between her and Harm? She shook her head to clear her thoughts.  She needed to concentrate on Harm’s struggle over what happened to Bud, and help him find his way through it. 

 

“Harm, it’s a war.  It’s not fair and that’s the hell of it.  You know that as well as I do, and feeling guilty won’t get you anywhere.   There was nothing anyone could have done.  We have to accept that.  Feeling guilty about it is wasted energy.  I know.  I’ve been there.”

 

“When?”

 

“Last year when your plane went down.  I felt guilty, and responsible somehow.”

 

“Why?”  Harm was taken by surprise.  He’d had no idea she’d felt that way, and never would have imagined it.  How could she feel responsible for his crash, unless she was talking about all the planning and preparation that had crashed that same night when her wedding had to be postponed, and later canceled.  He should be the one feeling bad about that - and he did, to a point - so he didn’t understand why she would feel at fault for weather and mechanical conditions beyond anyone’s control.

 

Mac swallowed hard and dropped her eyes.  She hadn’t expected the conversation to take this turn.  She had just wanted to warn Harm about false guilt, and now she was on the spot.  He needed - and deserved - an answer.  Well, maybe it was time, she thought.  After all that’s happened, maybe it’s time he knew.  She took a deep breath before answering,  “Because I didn’t wish you luck you before you left for your quals, that’s why.”

 

“Hey, Mac,” Harm’s tone was conciliatory and apologetic.  “It’s not that big a deal.  You were pretty mad at me that day.  You had every right to be after what I said to you.”

 

“But that was the problem.  What you’d said made me mad right then, but later - while we were all sitting around the office waiting for news from the Henry - your words came back to me.  Mic was trying to get me to make decisions about rescheduling and I just couldn’t concentrate.  At one point, after my thoughts had strayed off for the umpteenth time, he said, ‘I don’t know where you are but I need you here to make this work.’  When he said that, the words hit me like a ton of bricks, and in the back of my mind . . .” she paused before saying what came next as it would be so loaded with meaning.  “In the back of my mind I knew you were right.”

 

She stole a sideways glance at Harm to gauge his reaction.  In a matter of only seconds, his initial smugness at hearing her admit he was right quickly gave way to surprise when he realized what he had been right about.  From there it was straight to the furrowed brow of wondering if she was serious. 

 

Before he could say anything, she continued.  “Up until that night, I’d convinced myself that Mic was the one, and had talked myself into believing there was no chance with you - even after our conversation on the Admiral’s porch.”  She glanced at him again and saw him wince a little at the memory.  She plowed ahead as carefully as she could.  “Mic was sitting there, looking at me, waiting for my attention - and my heart - to come back to him, and I was so torn.  I told him I needed more time to think.  A few minutes later, Chloe convinced me I could “find” you.  I guess whatever sixth sense I had at that moment was motivated by a desire to make it up to you somehow.”

 

“Whatever it was, it worked.”

 

“Yeah, guess it did,” Mac said, nervous and self-conscious.  But she continued with her point.   “I figured Mic and I would reschedule when you were finally well-enough to attend.  That was really the only condition I had.  The biggest thing to happen in my life, and I could have cared less who was there, from the caterer up to the groom himself, with one exception:  You.  It just proved you right when you said I should reconsider who I was marrying if I needed you there to make it work”

 

“And you did - reconsider, that is.”  His tone was cautious but direct.  He knew he was treading on unstable ground, but still he had be sure.

 

“Well, Mic didn’t leave me much choice, but yeah.  I reconsidered.”  The touch of sarcasm in her voice told him volumes.  He thought for a moment before speaking again.

 

“I had no idea you felt that way, Mac.  I mean, about not wishing me luck that day.”

 

“There’s still a lot you don’t know about that night, those next few weeks.”

 

“Enlighten me.”

 

Mac fingered a fallen leaf she had picked up.  Rubbing its ribs between her fingers gave her nervous energy an outlet.  There was no going back now.  She would have to tell Harm everything she’d wanted to say for a whole year.  It was scary standing on the precipice of true confessions, she thought as she stole a quick glance at him.  The inquisitive tilt of his head and the softness in his eyes gave her the courage to jump, and convinced her that the fall would be liberating and the landing survivable.

 

“Looking back, I can see how transparent - almost brazen - I was about my feelings from the moment the Admiral told us what had happened.  It’s a wonder no one said anything to me about protocol or proper bridal etiquette.  It makes me wonder if everyone else was thinking the same thing as you, but was too polite to say it.”

 

“So it was impolite of me to tell you what I thought was the truth?”

 

Mac felt the corners of her mouth turn up a little.  The truth was as critical to who Harm was as the air that he breathed.  If he saw a truth that needed to be told, he had no problem telling it.  She wondered why, if he had really felt that way, didn’t he say anything sooner, like after they’d come back from Australia?  Then she realized that he would never have said or done anything ungentlemanly.  His comments at the elevator that day of the rehearsal dinner must have been the result of long-held frustration and disappointment. 

 

“Not just impolite, but bordering on rude,” she replied. “But you had every right to say it, and I wouldn’t wish for you to retract it.  That night, as we were all standing around the speakerphone at the restaurant, with me foolishly trying to give orders to Captain Ingalls and then escaping to a dark corner to cry,” she paused, taking a breath to compose herself and to overcome the shame she’d felt about the scene she’d made.  Even though Harm hadn’t been there, she was still ashamed to admit how unprofessional she had been.  “That night,” she continued, “was a perfect example of how sometimes the truth hurts.” 

 

“But you told me at your engagement party that I didn’t have a right to ask you if you loved him.  Didn’t I raise essentially the same question when I told you that you should reconsider who you were marrying?”

 

“Yes, but now I realize that you were the only person who knew me well enough to really have a right to question me about it, and the only one with the balls to actually ask.”

 

“That’s me,” proclaimed Harm with a roll of his eyes, “diving in where angels fear to tread.”

 

“Thank goodness there were angels treading the Atlantic Ocean that night - in addition to all those brave sailors and pilots.”

 

Harm watched her face as she remembered the moment she’d heard of his rescue, saw the wave of pent up anxiety broke across her pretty features, diffusing on the shore of her relief.  He placed his hand on her shoulder and gently turned her to him and said, “And a brave Marine with ESP.”

 

Mac saw the way he was looking at her and she turned away as she felt her cheeks suddenly get hot.  She hoped they weren’t turning pink as well. 

 

“Well, I, um . . . ,” she stammered, caught unprepared by the look of gratitude and devotion in his eyes.  Her carefully guarded feelings began to spill over the rim of her very full cup.  She felt the warm drops sliding down her cheeks and she bowed her head, embarrassed.

 

“You okay?” Harm asked softly lifting her chin toward him. 

 

Mac stifled a nervous laugh as she sniffed back tears.  “I was so scared that night, Harm.  Scared that you’d not make it, of course, but scared of so many other things.  I was scared of not seeing you again and of the void that would leave in my life.  I was scared my feelings for Mic weren’t strong enough.  I was scared I’d end up saying something I’d really regret, and I was scared of my feelings for you and what I would do if I could never act on them.”  She paused, and Harm waited.  “I was scared that if you didn’t come back, I would fall into a dark hole and never come out.  Do you have any idea what that’s like?” 

 

He did know what it was like, and he hesitated as he remembered his own dark hole.  “Yeah, Mac, I do.  It was Christmas Eve, 1969.”

 

“Oh, Harm, I’m sorry.”

 

“No, don’t be,” he said with understanding.  He had long ago come to terms with that part of his life.  “The point is that I survived it.  And you would have survived, too.  You’re not strong just because you’re a Marine, you know.”

 

“But I would have never been the same.” 

 

Harm pondered this revelation, and her openness.  Had she been hiding all these emotions over the last year?  Is that why she had gone TDY to the Guadalcanal before he got back from Renee’s father’s funeral?  Was she still trying to sort out her feelings and regain control when he showed up on board, practically unannounced?  She must have found some equilibrium by the time the JAG-a-Thon rolled around because she had offered him a second chance and a fresh start.  That was nothing to sneeze at coming from Sarah MacKenzie.  In Harm’s mind, all this seemed to say that she must still hold some strong feelings for him, but did she feel the same way toward him as he did toward her?  He needed to find out more.

 

“So I guess those two weeks were pretty rough for you,” Harm said with concern.

 

“You have no idea.”

 

“Tell me.”

 

Mac looked up through the leaves at the sky, still hung with gray clouds.  This part of the story would bring her closer to that still-raw place inside, but he deserved to know the rest.

 

“Well, I was relieved, as we all were of course.  When we all went to see you in the hospital, the tension was so thick.  There you were, all bruised and beat up, grateful to be alive, and I wished that I had come to see you by myself.”

 

“You did?  Why?”

 

“I’m still not really sure.  I guess I wanted to talk to you alone.”

 

“You could have come back any time while I was there.”

 

“I know, but something told me that the timing wasn’t right for what we would have talked about.”

 

“And what would we have talked about?”  Harm asked the question instinctively.  She was telling him her story, but leaving him openings to ask more questions.  It was almost as if she were on the witness stand.  Maybe, thought Harm, that question and answer format they were so familiar with was a good way for them to sort through all this. 

 

“Us.”

 

“Mac, I tried that with you on the Guadalcanal,” said Harm, frustrated.  “But you told me there was no ‘us’.”

 

“As far as I knew, there wasn’t.  Not then anyway.  Like I said, it was bad timing.”

 

Harm shook his head.  “Has there ever been good timing between us?” he wondered aloud in exasperation.  The witness had become non-responsive.  When he’d arrived earlier that day, he had made it clear that he needed her.  The situation with Bud had struck a dissonant chord inside him.  He needed to talk to someone, and he couldn’t talk to anyone like he could to Mac.  No one really understood him the way she did.  He was hoping that eventually they might get around to talking about “that thing” between them, and they seemed to be getting somewhere - sort of.  He was ready to settle some issues and clear the air.  He was ready for a new kind of relationship with her, one that would allow him to show her how he felt about her.  Now she was talking about bad timing, and he felt defeated, a little angry, and wanting to hop in his car and drive back to DC.  Maybe “that thing” between them was better forgotten. 

 

Mac was startled by his sudden attitude change, and the way he bristled at her comment.  She knew he thought she was brushing him off, and since that was nowhere near the truth, she had to reign this in, asap.

 

“Harm.”  Her soft, almost insistent, voice, and the gentle touch of her hand on his arm deflated his frustration.  When he looked at her, her slight smile and earnest eyes did wonders for his attitude.  Maybe there was hope yet.

 

“I’ve come to realize,” she said, her voice still soft, “that timing is not always under my control.  My good timing can be someone else’s bad timing, and vice versa.”

 

“Well, someone else must be having a helluva lot of good timing,” Harm said in a bruised tone, “because my timing with you has always been bad.”

 

“Harm, don’t start.  Things are different now.”

 

Harm raised his eyebrows at her as if to say “really?”  She nodded and he let out a heavy breath.  “I’m sorry, Mac.  Finish your story.”

 

Mac considered pursuing that issue, but decided against it.  She needed to tell him these things now.  “Okay, well, it was really bad timing that day we came to see you at Bethesda.  We all piled in on you at once.  I know you were happy to see us all, especially since you recognized us, but I felt as if everyone was staring at us - you and me, that is.”

“I know,” Harm nodded.  “I felt it too.”

 

“When you said “thank you” to me as we were leaving, I could feel Renee’s anger and jealousy like someone had dumped a bucket of scalding water on me.”

 

“Suffice it to say the testosterone was pretty thick in there, too,” Harm said dryly.

 

“Yeah, well, Mic wasn’t too thrilled about the way I had been behaving.  It was easy for him to be jealous of you.”

 

“I probably made it worse by making a point to thank you like that.  I guess that amnesia made it easier for me to feel connected to you, since I had no memory at all of a relationship with Renee’ - except what she’d told me that morning.”

 

“Really?”  Mac had known he’d had amnesia, but didn’t know that he’d forgotten completely about Renee’.

 

“Yeah, when she came in I had to think for a minute, and all I could come up with was the recruiting commercial.  She was leaning so close to me and talking about calling my mom - it scared me.”

 

Mac did everything she could to keep from laughing about this.  Too bad Harm hadn’t been that scared after their first date, or things would be entirely different now.  She cleared her throat and asked, “How long did it take you to remember?”

 

“About a week.”

 

“Geeze.  I’ll bet that was hard on both of you.”

 

“Yeah, it was.  It was frustrating.  She wanted to act like everything was normal, and I couldn’t until I remembered.  I know there were a few times she had to leave the room to compose herself.  I guess she didn’t want me to see her cry.  After I did remember, I apologized, but I don’t know how much it helped.”

 

“I felt bad for Renee’, you know.”

 

“You did?”

 

“Didn’t you?  Think about it, Harm.  She goes to see the man she loves in the hospital and he barely remembers her name, much less their relationship.  But he remembers quite a bit about another woman - her perceived rival.  All she could do was hope that you would soon remember everything about her and still want her around.  She wasn’t just jealous, she was scared.”

 

“Well, I felt sorry that I didn’t remember all the things she told me right away, but once I did, the problem was solved.  Besides, Renee and I weren’t ever really in love.  We were a couple, but it was never a permanent thing.”

 

“Maybe for you, but that’s not how she saw it.  Gee, Harm, you really are clueless sometimes.”

 

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, defensive.

 

“Renee’ loved you, but she didn’t have a chance.  After that little display you and I put on in the hospital room, she knew her time with you was just about over.  I could see the insecurity in her eyes.”

 

“Well, love or not, it was pretty much over anyway after your engagement party.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah.  I just couldn’t focus on her anymore.  I told her it was because I needed to get my head in gear for my quals, and that’s why I wasn’t interested in getting too close at that time.  She didn’t know any differently, but it was probably ‘conduct unbecoming’.”

“I’d probably agree with that.  You’d have never gotten that excuse past me.” 

 

“Yeah, I know.  And that made me feel even worse about what I was doing to Renee.”  Harm shook his head, trying to remember why he had dated that woman for so long.  In the back of his mind he knew it was because it was easy and comfortable, and helped him forget about Mac - a little - at least until he saw her the next day at the office. 

 

“To be honest, Mac, I needed her around to keep me from thinking about you.”

 

“Sounds like you were leading her on.”  Mac’s tone was matter-of-fact, but Harm heard the slight scolding tone behind the words.

 

“Probably,” he said. There was no sense defending himself on this subject to her, and it was so long ago that it didn’t matter that much to him anymore.  So he decided to agree.

 

“So much for ‘an officer and a gentleman’,” Mac said with a roll of her eyes.

 

“Listen,” Harm said, his voice becoming strident in his own defense, “in those last few weeks before your wedding date, you were on my mind whenever Renee wasn’t around - and even sometimes when she was.  It was to the point that it took a couple of beers or a few glasses of wine to loosen me up enough to take Renee to bed, and I’m not proud of that.”  Angrily he threw a pebble toward the creek.  He hated admitting that kind of weakness to Mac.  Thankfully, she remained silent.  He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair before continuing.  “I knew I couldn’t go on like that for long, especially with my quals coming up - I had to be sharp.  So after your party, I just sort of shut down when she was around.”

 

“You could have been more honest with her, told her you didn’t want the same things she did.”

 

“It wouldn’t have mattered.  At that time what I wanted was inaccessible.”  He looked at her and saw her eyes widen a little as she realized he was talking about her.  “It’s not that I didn’t want her around, I did,” he continued, “but until your wedding was over, I just couldn’t bring myself to be with her.  I told her that after my quals, things would be different.  Guess I was right.”

 

Mac considered all he had said.  She decided against chastising him for the way he had treated Renee’.  She had never really liked the other woman all that much, but she did her best to be polite to her for Harm’s sake.  She doubted many of their friends at JAG were sad to see her go.  If she had known about their breakup sooner, she would have felt bad for Harm, but since he didn’t tell her for weeks afterward, it didn’t make much sense to feel bad for someone when it was obvious that they had gotten over it.  Fortunately, by the time she’d heard about Renee, she was well on her way to recovering from Mic’s  departure.  She winced a little remembering what things were like between her and Mic between the night of Harm’s crash and the night Mic left.

 

“It was horrible for Mic and me, too.  I tried talking to him, but I couldn’t convince him that I still wanted to get married, but that I just needed more than a few days to refocus on it.”

 

“Did you though?  Still want to get married?”

 

“Yes, I did.  Or at least I thought I did.  But the more he pushed me, the more I resisted rushing back into it.  Then one day I came home and he was packed and ready to go.  If I had been 10 minutes later, I would have come home to a note taped to the door.”

 

“What were his reasons?”

 

“He didn’t believe that I loved him, that we weren’t on the same wavelength anymore, and that the only reason I was keeping him around was because I didn’t want to be alone.”

 

“He was always so diplomatic,” Harm said with heavy sarcasm - he never shied away from an opportunity to take a shot at his Australian adversary.  Then he realized that it must have been very difficult for Mac to have her life yanked out from under her like that. 

 

“I’m sorry, Mac.  I didn’t mean to make a joke about it.  It must have been a very difficult time for you.”

 

“Well, he didn’t say it quite like that,” Mac replied as he rubbed his hand across her back.  “He was actually wistful and sad about it.  I could tell he was very hurt.  But he was right.  I didn’t want to be alone, and I had been afraid that I would be if I tried waiting for you.”

 

There it was again, Harm thought.  It was that same nagging question that had hounded them for years.  He glanced sideways at her and saw her bite her lip and look away.  He set his jaw and remembered what he had told himself in the car on the way out here.  If that topic came up this weekend, he wasn’t going to hide from it.  Not again, he thought to himself, he wasn’t going to give her the brush off this time. 

 

This time would be different.  This time there was so little, if anything, holding him back.  This time, like no other time, he was sure he could clear the hurdle, propelled by a new urgency.  He wasn’t sure why, but Bud’s injury had sparked in him a new awareness of the brevity of life.  Not even his own brush with death last year, or the events of September 11 and the ensuing war, had awakened this urgency within him, and it prickled at the edge of his consciousness, demanding to be noticed.  He was now determined to live without reservations, and therefore, no regrets.  And one of his biggest reservations had always been a relationship with the woman sitting next to him.  And he didn’t want either of them to have any regrets about that.