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.

 

“I’m sorry, Mac,” he began.  “That night Mic left, I really wanted us to talk.  I don’t know if I could have made any commitments then, but I did want to work some things out between us.”

 

Mac felt the pain shoot through her heart afresh as she replayed that night in her mind:  going by Harm’s, then rushing to the airport, only to watch the house of cards she’d created crumple to the ground with a last look and a walk down a jetway. 

 

Tears stung her eyes and she fought to blink them back.  “I’d tried so hard to forget what happened after I called you from the airport.  But those three words have . . .” a sob caught in her throat and she wiped furiously at her cheeks.  “Those three words have haunted me, every day and every night since.”

 

“What three words?”

 

“‘Come to me.’”

 

She wasn’t looking at him, just gazing out at the trees.  Harm watched her face, remembering that night along with her.

 

“I can replay that whole conversation in my head, you know,” she said with mock pride.  “Every word, every breath and inflection, every nuance that makes it so precious and heart-wrenching at the same time.”

 

“I did want you to come over, Mac.”

 

“I know.  And I wanted to be with you. You were all I had left, the only friend who would understand and be honest with me.  And even that was stripped away.  It was as if you had been rescued, but I was the one set adrift.”  Several large tears rolled freely down her face.

 

Harm put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to him, and again he brushed at her tears with his fingers.  “Mac, you know that’s not true.  I would have given anything at that moment to be able to let you in.”

 

“I know.  I saw it in your eyes.  But that didn’t make it any easier.”

 

“I’m sorry, Mac.  I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through.”  He made sure she was looking at him when he repeated for emphasis,  “Everything.”

 

She wasn’t sure she should believe him, despite the earnest and sincere look in his eyes.  The pain and frustration of months and years were evident when she asked him, “Are you really?”

 

Harm saw that pain and frustration and decided it was time. “Yes I’m sorry, because I love you.”  No reservations, no regrets.

 

She had expected him to look away again, to avoid her direct question and give her another evasive answer.  His simple response was so unexpected it startled her. 

 

“Harm, I . . .”

 

“Mac, there are some things you need to know, too.  You mentioned those three words that have haunted you, well I’ve got three words that have haunted me.  Remember when we said good bye before I went back to active flying?  I had said something about when you’d left JAG it was different because you had been in love, and you asked me, ‘And you’re not?’  When I saw the look in your eyes and your tears, it was as if you’d torn out a piece of my heart.  It had never occurred to me that you might feel that way, too.”

 

Mac was still so stunned by his declaration, that she kept quiet and let him finish.

 

“It was a  Catch-22 for me,” Harm went on.  “If I told you I wasn’t in love, I’d have been lying, and I didn’t want to do that.  But if I told you I was, how could I have brought myself to leave you?  And I just had to go - I had to follow my dream to its logical conclusion.  I knew you, of all people, understood that, and I knew you’d be there when I returned, and I would make it right with us then. 

 

“Your question followed me everywhere I went on that carrier and in the air, and every time I answered ‘I am’.  But when I did come back, certain things had gotten in the way and it was so different between us.  I didn’t know how to approach you anymore.  So when that question haunted me in my dreams and spare waking moments, I started to answer ‘no, not anymore.’  I knew I was fooling myself, but I didn’t think you would even give me the time of day.”

 

“Even that night in Sydney?”  Mac felt a jolt of embarrassment.  She couldn’t believe she’d “gone there”.  She stole a furtive glance at Harm who was shaking his head thoughtfully.

 

“Even then,” he replied.  Mac felt better about bringing it up, but she was still embarrassed by her behavior on that ferry.

 

“Harm, I practically begged you that night.  It’s certainly not one of my finer moments.”

 

“I know, and you risked quite a bit by it, too.  I couldn’t let you do that though.”

 

“Do what?  Come on to you?”  Mac said with feigned shock and surprise.  “Harmon Rabb, don’t tell me you weren’t flattered.”  She couldn’t believe she had drug up this incident between them.  Even though he had pushed her away that night, she still wondered what might have happened if he had accepted her advances. 

 

“Oh, I was flattered all right.  Caught off guard, too.  But besides that, I didn’t want something between us to start that way.”

 

“You mean you wanted to be the pursuer and not the pursued.”

 

“That might have been part of it.”

 

“What was the rest?”

 

“Fear.  Uncertainty.  I had a picture in my mind of how it should be, and I didn’t know if it would turn out that way.  Especially if we would have given in that night.”

 

“Harm, don’t tell me you’re afraid of me.”

 

“No, not of you, never of you.  I was afraid of what might happen because of how powerfully I was drawn to you.  Would it work out, or would it blow up in our faces when we returned to Washington?  I went back to my hotel room that night and promised myself that when we got home, I would try to get closer to you.  But again, I didn’t get the chance.”

 

“I went back to my hotel room that night and cried myself to sleep.” Mac replied.  “I promised myself that I would never let Harmon Rabb, Jr. hurt me again.” She looked at him with a regretful shake of her head.  “So, when Mic proposed, it seemed like a good way to keep that from happening, and there may have been a little bit of revenge in it, too.  I don’t know how I could have been so incredibly wrong about so many things since then.”

 

“All of it is behind us now, Mac.  There’s no sense beating ourselves up anymore over missed opportunities.  There’s an opportunity right here in front of us.  I think we both know what we want.”

 

Mac thought for a moment.  Yes, she knew what she wanted.  “You really love me?”

 

Harm cupped her face in his hands and looked into her eyes with a calm resolve.  “Yes, I really love you, Mac.”

 

Mac felt a shiver run down her spine and she caught her breath.  “I love you, too.”

 

++++++

 

Part 3, “Assay”

 

“Was that a raindrop?”

 

Harm was pulled from his moment of reverie by her question.  “I believe so,” he replied, taking a look at the sky.

 

“Let’s head back before we get too wet,” Mac said, moving to get up.  “It’s a pretty good hike from here, and besides, my rear end if falling asleep from sitting on these rocks so long.”

 

“Well we can’t have that now, can we?” 

 

Mac saw his arched eyebrow, and that the twinkle had returned to his eyes, which made her cheeks feel warm again.  A nervous chuckle bubbled up from her throat.  She felt like a schoolgirl all of a sudden.  Was it the damp air that was causing her to feel chilled, she wondered as she rubbed her arms for warmth, or something that she’d seen in his eyes?

 

She turned to see that Harm was still sitting on the rocks, but was holding out a hand for her to help him up.  She put her hands on her hips and shook her head.  “Gettin’ old Harm?” she teased, finally giving him a hand. “The rain bothering your arthritis again?”

 

He grabbed her wrist and they both pulled, bringing Harm to his feet.  “No, I just thought you’d enjoy being the gentleman for a change.”

 

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” was the best she could do as a rejoinder.  But that was okay, she’d get him on the next round.

 

Harm smiled at her, then she started to climb over the rocks back to the path.  Harm followed, catching up with her easily, and falling into step beside her.  This time it was he who reached over and took her cool hand in his.  He brought it up to his lips and kissed the back of it. 

 

The incredible warmth of his hand enveloping hers sent ripples of heat coursing through her.  The thought arose in her mind of those warm hands on other parts of her body.  When he kissed her hand, she saw the fleeting expression of deep affection in that small act of gallantry.  He looked at her and she gave him a sweet smile, and they walked in silence, hand-in-hand, through the woods.

 

Mac considered how amazing it was that the verbal expression of love between two people can change the whole atmosphere between them.  Just a moment ago they were talking about hurts, pain and missed opportunities.  Now it was if a ray of light was shining down on just them. 

 

When she had finally said “I love you” to Harm, she had seen his face change, felt his deep exhale of relief, and watched as a few lines around his eyes and mouth had disappeared.  It was as if he had been transformed.  Did this direct, verbal confirmation of her feelings for him really effect him so greatly that it appeared to subtract years from his life?  Was it that important to him to know once and for all that she loved him?  Since she had felt this way for so long, she had to remind herself that this was the first time Harm had heard her say it.  She realized that it must not only be a relief for him, but also a victory of sorts.  All the time, pain, frustration, and the careful rebuilding of their friendship had finally paid off, and she felt it, too.  She wondered if she seemed transformed as well.

 

Harm saw Mac shiver inside her jacket, and he wanted to warm her.  But the smile on her face told him it wasn’t an ordinary chill from the cold rain, and that intrigued and satisfied him.  For as long as he had known and been attracted to Mac, he didn’t know if she would experience the same sparks of excitement and desire that he felt.  When he had rashly kissed her on the Admiral’s porch that night, she had been kissing him back, but he didn’t know what it did to her.  The arousal he had felt at that moment lingered within him for days afterward.  Only later did he realize that it really wasn’t the way he had wanted it to be with her.  Especially since at that time it was certainly out of bounds. 

 

He wondered how much would still be “out of bounds” now that he had finally told her he loved her and she had responded in kind.  He didn’t blame her for questioning his sincerity, and in fact, welcomed any skepticism she might have of his feelings for her.  He was ready and willing to argue his case, but he wanted Mac to warm up to his affections on her own time.  From everything she had told him today, and from a few tidbits he had picked up over the last year, he understood that she had come through a ferocious storm in her life, and would need some time adjusting to the new arrangement between them. 

 

Of course they still had to talk about that arrangement, and they had three days to do it.  The old issue of them being co-workers rose in his mind, but it didn’t bother him anymore.  He knew there would be a suitable way for it to be worked out, with the Admiral’s help and guidance, so he wasn’t going to worry about it.  He had more important things to think about at the moment.  Like whether or not he should try to kiss her now, or wait a little longer.  Should he even break this wonderful, contented silence between them at all?  The steady drip of rain on the trees, and the rustle of their feet on the carpet of decaying leaves was a soft soundtrack for their thoughts.

 

The path they were on was narrow and poorly marked, as if it hadn’t been walked for years.  Mac knew it well enough though, since she had spent many hours in the past sitting and thinking on those rocks, so she had been guiding them around trees, over roots, and past overgrown brambles that were attempting to block the way.  At times they had to let go of each other’s hands, but reconnected when they could. 

 

They walked in silence, concentrating on both the terrain and the important change that had taken place between them. Deep in thought, Mac was picturing in her mind the first time they had met outside the White House, and how, after he’d gotten over that spooky feeling about her looks, he had been brash and cocky and irritating.  But even then, when she had shaken hands with him that day so long ago, the tingle in her fingers that had traveled quickly up her arm was more than a passing attraction. 

 

Though she would never have let on, she had been taken in from the first by his extraordinary good looks, and also by something in his self-satisfied air that could only come from being a pilot.  His arrogance made her want to be around him, if for no other reason than to find as many ways as she could to chip away at that cocky attitude.  That undertaking had turned out to be a considerable challenge, but also a good deal of fun along the way.  At first she had really given him a hard time, but he continued to be friendly with her when common sense would have sent most guys packing.  Then again, Harm wasn’t big on common sense when it came to women anyway, she reminded herself. 

 

Along the way, too, she had come to know Harm better than just about anyone, and she was deeply grateful for the friendship he had always shown her.  She was also indebted to him for all the many ways that friendship had “saved” her.  Some he knew about, and some he didn’t.  Too bad that friendship couldn’t have saved her from Mic, but she knew Harm would tell her that he couldn’t have saved her from herself, for it was her own choice that had sent her careening off in that direction.  Unfortunately it took Harm’s crash to bring her abruptly back, preventing her from burning that bridge with a vow.

 

Her choice to go to Mic had been driven by anger, longing, and a selfish need to have a part of her life fulfilled in some way, and she knew Mic would have provided her with whatever she desired.  It wasn’t until it was almost too late that she realized that wasn’t what she really wanted deep down in her soul.  Looking back, she knew that she wouldn’t have been strong enough to walk away, and her choice would have been terribly wrong.

 

She had made another choice today.  This choice was driven by sincere desire and a clear picture of what she wanted.  The moment she had said “I love you”, she had felt something shift deep in her soul.  It was liberating.  The kind of freedom you know only comes from the honest expression of your heart.  It was the kind of freedom she had not known with Mic, or Dalton, or even from winning her battle against alcohol.  Maybe the freedom felt stronger because she had either denied it or held it in for so long.

 

She glanced up at Harm, who was deep in thought himself, and compared the Harm she knew today to the Harm she had met on the curb outside the White House.  He was still just as handsome, if not more so, and he was still a cocky fighter pilot.  Those two things she knew would never change, and she never wanted them to.  Harm had taken many hits, though, in the six years she’d known him, and he was a stronger, more mature man because of it, and she had been there to witness it all.  The search for his father, finding his half brother, all the nonsense with agent Palmer, going back to flying and then reluctantly returning to JAG, losing Annie, losing Jordan, Jordan’s death, his crash and rescue, all of it and more was an extraordinary amount of testing for one man to endure in a lifetime.  And on top of it all was almost losing the woman he loved.  It wasn’t until today that she realized this fully, and her heart had ached for him.

 

Another sideways glance allowed her to watch him as he walked.  She was still aching for him, but this time it was much more physical than emotional.  Looking at his legs she could see his muscles under his jeans.  Raising her eyes she saw that his jacket was unzipped halfway and she could see his t-shirt.  Unbidden, her mental filing cabinet opened to reveal an image of him that she would never forget, one she had pulled out only on rare occasions since - it was too dangerous an image to linger over.  It was from the night she had “kept watch” in his apartment when they suspected that Palmer might come after him.  Harm had gotten out of bed to turn up the thermostat for her, but after what she had seen she didn’t need the heater.  The sight of him in the blue moonlight was etched upon her mind. 

 

That night she could clearly see every muscle in his body - except those hidden by his boxer shorts - and as he approached her, she felt the heat rising within her before he even touched the thermostat.  After he had gone back to bed and she had finished cleaning his gun, she thought about sliding under that down comforter with him.  She knew it wouldn’t have taken much for them to find out some new and interesting things about each other.

 

Something then had told her the timing wasn’t right.  Timing, timing, timing.  Looking back now, she wouldn’t have changed much, if anything, about the timing.  Now that the timing was right, she had the opportunity to find out what was really under those boxer shorts.  The thought startled her, in a way.  It wasn’t that she had never considered having sex with Harm, but she had purposely pushed those thoughts way back in the dark recesses of her mind for so long, that they squinted when brought into the light of their new relationship. 

 

She gulped.  Sex with Harm.  She had to think about it now.  It certainly wasn’t an unpleasant thought, far from it, but it was so laden with meaning and the build up of years of frustration and waiting, that it was almost too much to consider at this point.  Maybe later, tomorrow even.  For now she was content to hold his hand and know that they were on the same wavelength.

 

They came to the main path through the woods that was more heavily trodden, making their walk easier from here on.  She let go of his hand and tucked her arm around his waist.  Instinctively he draped his arm around her shoulders.  She closed her eyes for a moment as a new feeling of comfort and security came over her.  Harm, captivated by the closeness of her, allowed his hand to trail up to her neck and let his fingers play gently with the ends of her short hair.  Mac shivered involuntarily and laid her head on his shoulder.  There was still no need for words.

 

When they came within ten minutes of the garage apartment, Mac thought of Harm’s addition to her pantry.  Her stomach growled as she realized it was now 17:08 and she hadn’t eaten since a late breakfast at 10:46.  Harm had arrived around 1pm - about the time she would have eaten lunch - but that little detail was tossed aside in the wake of his news and their much-needed conversation.

 

“So what’s for dinner, Harm?” she asked lightly.  Her curiosity was piqued, but she hid her dread.  Harm’s culinary tastes were pretty far from hers.

 

 “Well, I saw a macaroni and cheese tv dinner in your freezer earlier,” he teased.  “Maybe we could split it?”  He was hoping the next time they spoke it would be about something a bit more serious, but they had plenty of time for that.

 

“No way, sailor,” Mac retorted, picking up the verbal gauntlet he had thrown down.  “The mac-n-cheese is mine.  But I’ll let you have the frozen burrito.” 

 

Accepting the challenge, he replied, “I’d rather eat the seat cushions in a Humvee,” he scoffed.  “You’ll be pleased to know I’ve brought the makings of a very satisfying meal.”

 

“As long as there’s no couscous or arugula.  And this apartment doesn’t have a collection of the fancy pots and pans that you’re used to either.”

 

“Don’t worry,” he assured.  “I believe you’ll enjoy what I’ve got planned.”

 

“Well, don’t cancel those hotel reservations just yet, Julia Child,” she with mock warning.  “We may need them if you burn the place down.”

 

Harm put his hand to his chest and acted as if he’d been struck by a bullet.  “Oh, ow, that hurts, Mac.  I thought I was a little bit better looking than Julia.”

 

Mac threw her head back and laughed at his wounded display.  When she looked at him, he was grinning from ear to ear.  It was that same mischievous grin that had irritated her so much during the first few weeks she knew him, but that she had grown to love.  It had been a long time since she had seen that grin in full display for her benefit only, and she was pleased beyond measure.

 

Harm reveled in her laughter and the teasing banter that had preceded it, making his grin even wider.  It wasn’t that they hadn’t verbally sparred or shared a laugh in the recent past, but it took on a whole new meaning today.  He knew that in Mac, he had a true companion, with whom he could share joy as well as sorrow.

 

They stopped walking as their laughter settled down and drifted off into the woods.  Buoyed by the moment, Harm stepped toward her and gently cupped her face in his hands.  She did not resist, but looked straight into his eyes.

 

The rain continued to fall as soft as snow, but Harm’s kiss was softer.  His lips were warm, and moved in perfect rhythm with hers.  She was completely lost in the kiss, floating on a warm river of wonder and desire.

 

Before she could lean her eager body into his, he gently pulled his lips away. She felt his breath mingle with hers and every nerve in her body was on high alert.  The rain misted her upturned face and she allowed her eyes to flutter open.  Harm’s eyes were still closed and his lips slightly parted as if still in mid kiss, but his brow was furrowed and pensive.  Mac somehow knew he was trying to make a difficult decision.  It was only a moment before he opened his eyes also, signaling the choice he had made.  Mac was partly disappointed because every fiber of her being longed to follow that kiss to it’s rightful conclusion, but she was also partly grateful that he was going to give her a little bit longer to get used to that idea. 

 

Oblivious to the steady drizzle, the two tentative lovers smiled at each other, and Harm wrapped his arms around her and held her close.  Just then the breeze picked up, bringing with it a more moderate downpour and sending Harm and Mac sprinting back to the apartment.

+++

 

Mac emerged from the tiny bedroom to the sizzle of stir-fry and the aroma of sesame and ginger.  Harm had brought his electric wok in from the car while she was changing, and he was busily tossing and scraping a colorful mixture inside the huge, hot steel bowl. 

 

“Mmm . . . smells awesome,” Mac said with appreciation as her stomach rumbled in anticipation.

 

Harm looked over at her while he continued to stir the food.  Her hair was still damp, and she was dressed in black, capri-length leggings and an oversized red sweatshirt with “US Marines” emblazoned in yellow on the front.  “Nice shirt,” Harm commented with a sly upturning of the corner of his mouth.

 

“Uniform of the Day, Sailor,” she teased back.  “If you don’t like it, you’ll have to rip it off me.”

 

Harm stopped stirring and his eyes met hers instantly.  “Just say when.”  His voice was even and measured, but the arch of his eyebrow was all the innuendo Mac needed realize the portent of what she had said.  Thank goodness her stomach rumbled again, giving her the perfect deflection.

 

“Certainly not before dinner,” she pretended to scoff, then quickly added, “This smells great, did I tell you that?  Is there any meat in there?  How much longer ‘til it’s done?”

 

Harm chuckled and winked at her.  “Thank you, yes you did, I’ve got some sesame chicken over here, and it won’t be much longer.” 

 

“I’ll get some plates,” Mac decided aloud, glad to have something to do to keep her from thinking about Harm ripping her shirt off.

 

Harm watched her set the table out of the corner of his eye.  He knew what he’d said was volatile, and in a way he wanted it to be.  He wanted her to know that at some point there was going to be more than just kissing - a lot more.  And he was impressed and heartened by her comeback because it told him that she wasn’t opposed to the idea, just not before dinner.  He’d learned a long time ago not to get in Mac’s way when she was hungry.

 

Soon they were sitting down to a delicious meal, and after a few voracious bites, Mac’s stomach got the message and quit rumbling and started digesting.  Now she could concentrate on what was actually going on right now in her little world.  She and Harm, sitting at the little table for two in the little apartment, were eating a meal that he had prepared, after a long afternoon of walking and conversation.  Oh, yeah, and they had said ‘I love you’ to each other and shared a very romantic kiss.  Talk about “laughter in the rain”!  Mac felt a chill race up her spine as she realized that one of her long-forgotten teenage dreams had come true that afternoon.  The old Neil Sedaka lyrics ran through her mind for the first time in years, and the similarities were almost word-for-word.  She gulped and her fork hit her plate with a klunk.

 

Harm looked up from his meal.  “You okay?”

 

“Oh, um, yeah,” she assured, recognizing that same measured tone he had used earlier.  “Just thinking.”

 

Harm considered her carefully, trying to gauge her feelings.  Maybe he shouldn’t have been so forward when he made the comment about her sweatshirt.  The last thing he wanted to do was make her nervous.

 

She glanced up at him again and saw him watching her.  “Harm, I’m fine.  Really.”  She reinforced her assertion with a smile.

 

His face finally softened as the corners of his mouth turned upward.  “Good.  I was worried there was something wrong with the food.”

 

“Mmm. . . no, it’s wonderful,” she said dabbing the corner of her mouth with a paper napkin.  “Thank you for cooking.”

 

“Glad you like it.”

 

“It’s even a little better than those MRE’s we had to eat in Afghanistan.”  She had meant it as a joke, and Harm chuckled a little, but his face became suddenly downcast.

 

Realizing what she’d done by bringing up Afghanistan again, Mac tried to retrieve her words.  “I’m sorry, Harm.  I didn’t mean to put a damper on dinner.”

 

He looked up at her.  “S’okay, Mac.”

 

They ate in silence for a few moments.  Harm tried to push thoughts of Bud into the back of his mind so he could concentrate on Mac, but the guilt pushed it’s way to the front and demanded attention.  To make things worse, Mac seemed to still be nervous, or edgy.  He noticed her eyes darting around, looking at anything but him, and she squirmed a little in her seat.  How could he enjoy spending the night if she was out of sorts about his obvious intentions?  Not that he was in the mood for that now.

 

Mac was out of sorts, but for a different reason.  She had brought up Bud’s injury again and that had brought to the surface Harm’s still raw and uncharted feelings.  She hadn’t wanted to do that this evening, though how she could have avoided it completely she didn’t know or plan for.  She guessed that maybe they’d talk about it some more, but it wasn’t on her docket for that evening.  She was still trying to wrap her mind around Harm’s intentions for her.  Was it selfish to want to come to grips with an intimate physical relationship with Harm before coming to grips with the predicament of their friend?  Mac thought so, but knew she had to put Harm first.  He was right here in front of her, his heart on his sleeve for a change, waiting for her to acquiesce, not suffering in some field hospital half a world away.  He was suffering though.  Mac could see it on his face.  What could she say or do right then to help him?  

 

She looked at the table and saw that his left hand was resting next to his plate.  Quietly she set down her fork and reached across the small table and laid her hand on his.

 

Harm looked over at her hand resting gently on his and his gaze followed her arm up to her face.  Her brow held a wrinkle of concern and her eyes seemed to be asking him if he really was okay. 

 

“Thanks Mac,” he offered quietly.  “I guess I still don’t have this thing with Bud figured out in my mind.”

 

“I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

 

“I know.  I told you I need you.”

 

In response she squeezed his hand and he squeezed back.  They finished their dinner without another word, content in the silence wrapped around them.

 

+++++++

 

"Wash or dry?"

 

Harm considered the several dinner dishes on the counter.  "Wash.  Can't have you putting a ding in my wok."

 

"O ye of little faith," she said, grabbing a towel.

 

"Would you rather wash?"

 

"Un-uh.  I love a man with dishpan hands," she declared.

 

"Any man in particular?" he asked with an arched eyebrow as he pushed up the sleeves of his unbuttoned blue chambray shirt.  He couldn't help it.  Even though he was still so conflicted about the whole situation surrounding Bud's injury, he just couldn't help how he felt around Mac, and how he seemed almost compelled to flirt with her, implying his intentions.  Now that he had told her he loved her, the desire to "show" her was too strong to deny and overrode his feelings about his wounded friend.

 

Mac watched as his forearms were exposed, noting the muscles and veins, thinking suddenly of those arms around her.  "Maybe," she replied.  Her voice, while even and non-committal, was laced with nervous excitement, and she felt her pulse start racing.  She took a deep breath to slow it down and turned toward the sink so she could concentrate.  Ever since he had kissed her that afternoon, the tension had been building inside her.

 

Harm noticed.  He noticed her watching him, he noticed her tone of voice, and he noticed her attempt to regain control.  He was impressed by her restraint, and he didn't want to rush her into anything, but he needed to start steering her in the direction of consummating their relationship.  Gentle pressure, expertly applied - that would be his battle plan. 

 

He lowered his voice a notch and asked, "Do you have any specific plans for these dishpan hands?"

 

Mac gulped quietly.  He was flirting with her.  More than flirting - he was, with tactical precision, causing her to consider the inevitable.  He was planting the seeds in her mind, and her long-held fantasies took over with the slightest suggestion.  She wanted nothing more than to literally throw in the towel she was holding and give in to him right there in the kitchen.  Then her "little voice" chimed in, telling her to think about it a little longer.  Part of her couldn't wait to satisfy her longings, and discover the untold mysteries that lived at the edge of her dreams.  The other part of her wanted to savor every second.  None of that explained why she felt like a schoolgirl.  Up until today, she never had a problem responding to Harm's flirtatious nature.  Then again, it was never really directed at her like it was now.

 

"Ah . . . we'll see," she said, trying not to sound too nervous.

 

"Hmm," he said turning toward the sink to fill it with water, "I can probably come up with something.  Where's the dish soap?"

 

Mac's mind was starting to spin, trying to think of what Harm would do with his hands, compared to what she wanted him to do.  She totally missed his question.

 

"Mac?"

 

"Uh, yeah?"

 

"Where's the dish soap?" he repeated.

 

"Oh!  In the cabinet under the sink."

 

Harm proceeded to fill the sink with bubbles, going about the task at hand as if there was no crackling tension at all between them.

 

Again there was silence between them as they worked on the dishes.  Mac made sure she was careful with Harm's wok, and tried not to allow their hands to touch when he handed her the wet dishes.  Water and electricity can cause a serious shock, she reminded herself, her nerves still sizzling from his verbal advances.

 

"Well, that didn't take too long," she said putting the last dish away and handing Harm a dry towel.  This time their hands touched when he reached for it.  Their eyes locked, and she felt as if he were looking right through her.  She knew what he would see as he gazed into her soul, and it made her even more nervous.  Did she really want him to see all the passion and desire she felt?  Was she ready to show it to him?

 

On the other side of the towel, Harm was having a moment of deja-vu, remembering that time-stopping moment on the Admiral's porch when he had handed her her purse and their hands had touched.  She was still the same beautiful woman caught in an unguarded moment, but there was something less conflicted in her eyes.   There was also something fragile and intense in those brown pools he knew so well.  He knew now that she wanted him - that she truly desired him physically - and he began to wonder why she was hesitant.  Was she afraid of him, or just afraid of the situation?  It was time to show her that she needn't worry, that he would never do anything to upset or disappoint her.  It was time to make his move.

 

He reached up with his other hand, still damp from the dishwashing, and brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes, tracing the line of her cheek down to her chin with his wet finger. 

 

Mac shuddered and gulped.  He might as well have used a branding iron.  Her face seemed to burn where he had touched her.

 

Taking the towel from her hand he finished drying his and tossed the towel on the counter.  When he looked back at her she seemed frozen - only the quick and shallow rise and fall of her chest indicated that she was still breathing. 

 

"Mac," he whispered, not wanting to startle her.  He took both her hands in his.

 

It was enough to rouse her from her reverie.  He was standing so close to her, barely inches separated them.  She felt the warmth radiating from his chest, felt his gentle breath across her cheeks, and his hands firmly clasped around hers.  There was no way she could escape from it - from him - now. 

 

"Oh, Harm," she whispered and the breath caught in her throat.  She leaned into him, resting her forehead in the curve of his shoulder.  When she breathed in again, the layered aromas of dinner, the outdoors, and his aftershave mingled in her nostrils. 

 

He released her hands and wrapped his arms around her, and she him.  "Trust me, Mac," he whispered into her silky hair in the direction of her ear.

 

"I do," was her whispered reply.

 

He pulled his head away to look into her eyes.  "Even in this?" he asked, and touched his lips to hers.

 

Even though his kiss was light at first, the contact seemed to spark like a live wire.  Harm felt her tense slightly, but he was not to be deterred.  He deepened the kiss, gently parting her lips with his, encouraging her to respond in kind, and teasing her lips with his tongue.

 

If someone had poured the strongest tequila down her throat, Mac would have shrugged it off as no big deal compared to the molten passion that was searing her every fiber from the inside out.  Their kiss in the rain that afternoon was in response to the contented and lighthearted moment it followed, but this . . . . . this was the kind of kiss that could change your life.  Maybe that was what she was really afraid of - change. 

 

Even as her body was screaming for satisfaction, she knew that sex with Harm would change everything.  Was that why he had urged her to trust him?  Did he understand the serious and irreparable change this would bring into both of their lives?  Was he just so much more optimistic about it than she, and that was why he had led her to take this leap of faith?

 

Yes, she did trust him.  Implicitly.  Even - especially - in this, she realized.  As soon as this thought was formulated, her mind released its vice-grip on her heart.  She parted her lips fully, pressed her eager hips against his, and allowed her hands to travel up and down his back, holding him close.

 

After a minute of his most expert kissing skills, Harm finally felt her body relax into his.  When her mouth parted, he probed gently with his tongue.  When her hips pressed against his, he pressed back, knowing she would, at that moment, discover his growing enthusiasm for the turn of events.  His entire body was on high alert from the soles of his feet to the hair on his head.  Mac.  Finally.

 

**"director's cut"**

 

Coming up for air and pressing their foreheads together, both were breathing hard.  "You okay?" he asked between breaths.

 

"What do you think?"

 

"If you're still not ready, Mac, I'll understand, but . . . "

 

"C'mon, Harm," she said quietly, taking his hand and leading him out of the kitchen, across the small living room, and toward the bedroom.

 

At the bedroom door he stopped her, buried his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck and bent in for another white-hot kiss.  This time she allowed her hand to rest on his chest, right above his heart.  She could feel its rapid beating through his shirt, and knew it was all for her. 

 

His other hand traveled up her arm, across her shoulder, and brushed her neck.  She shivered with pleasure, and he felt the goose bumps rise under his fingertips.  He allowed gravity to pull his hand downward, tracing her curves.  It was at this moment that he realized that she wasn't wearing anything of consequence under her sweatshirt.  The thought aroused him even further and he pulled her hips against him again. 

 

Mac's hands slid down his back and she slid her fingers into his back pockets, pressing her hips against him even more insistently.  She felt the bulge under his button-flys, and its proximity to it's ultimate goal unleashed a new surge of arousal in her.  She started to step backwards toward the bed, pulling him with her.  If she had wanted to savor the moment, she was doing a lousy job.

 

Harm realized what she was doing and fell into step - one actually, since the room was so small the bed was only a step away.  Standing next to the soft flat surface, it finally hit him what was about to happen and he stopped kissing her.  He cupped her face in his hands and looked into her fiery eyes.  The passion burning in her mirrored his own. 

 

When she slid her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, pushing his shirt off his back and arms, he felt his muscles twitch.  Then she was pulling up his t-shirt, and he helped her lift it over his head.  Her fingers traced lazily down his chest and abdomen for a moment, and it was Harm's turn to imagine the branding iron.  Women had touched him provocatively in the past, but none of them had been Mac. 

 

Sensing his subtle surrender, Mac quickly removed her sweatshirt, revealing a snug white tank top that left very little to the imagination.  Lifting her arms to his now bare shoulders, she leaned in for another kiss. 

 

Harm took the hint and slid his fingers under her top at the small of her back.  He tried to go slow, but that was proving very difficult.  As her shirt worked its way up her body, he had to stretch it out in order for it to go any higher in the front, releasing her breasts from their cotton confines.  Amazingly he was able to do this without touching her there, and soon the tank top was forgotten on the floor. 

 

He rested his hands lightly on her shoulders, and she rested hers low on his waist at the top of his jeans.  He dipped his head to kiss her again, with tantalizing slowness, as he gently pulled her to him.  When finally skin met skin, their simultaneous gasps abruptly broke the kiss. 

 

From that moment, restraint of any kind dissolved into unbridled passion.  They resumed kissing but now it was fervent and tempestuous.  Harm's hands had discovered her breasts, his thumbs toying mercilessly with her nipples.  Mac's hands were busy as well, nimbly unbuttoning his fly even as she moaned in response to his touch. 

 

Digging her thumbs into his waistband, she pushed the denim down his hips and over his rear.  She was surprised to find plain white briefs instead of the boxers she'd expected.  Then she realized that boxers would certainly cause unsightly lumps in the wrong places under this particular pair of snug-fitting jeans, and she remembered not seen any lumps that weren't supposed to be there.  The lump that was supposed to be there was now well-defined through the cotton fabric.

 

She wanted to touch it, yet part of her was still so awed by the enormity of the situation that she hesitated.  Her hands trembled with excitement and tension as they moved over his muscular back and abdomen.  Harm wrapped his bare arms around her bare shoulders and held her to him again, their chests pulsing against each other with every agitated breath.  Mac allowed her hands to travel down his back and skim over the perfect roundness of his rear, and as she did so, she felt the muscles tense under her open palms as once again his hips ground into hers. 

 

Harm leaned over her, bending her gently toward the bed.  Mac sat down and scooted backward, bringing him with her.  He settled in beside her, resting on an elbow, kissing her, caressing her, reveling in her moans and gasps.  She didn't think she could be any more aroused, until he was up on his knees, pulling off her pants and panties. 

 

Finally exposed before him, a wave of freedom washed over her.  Yes, she did trust him - completely.  She watched him as he gazed at her body - a body she had worked hard to sculpt and was very proud of - and smiled to herself at his genuine appreciation of it. 

 

"Harm," she whispered, speaking for the first time since the kitchen.  When he looked at her face she smiled seductively.  "My turn," she said, rising to her knees and tucking her thumbs into the waistband of his briefs.  Carefully she smoothed them over his butt, then stretched them forward and over his gorgeous erection. 

 

Kneeling naked on the bed facing each other, Harm looked deeply into her eyes and saw the emotional openness mingled with unrestrained desire.  He knew she was beautiful all over, but even more so as she was offering it all up to him in complete faith.

 

"I love you, Mac," he breathed as he cupped her face in one hand, her waist in the other.  "Let me show you."

 

"You better," was all she could say before he silenced her with another searing kiss that started with her lips and soon was traveling south.  She moaned it utter satisfaction.

 

Harm's lips traversed the circumference of one of her well-rounded breasts, closing in on its peak with every concentric pass.  By all accounts, she was certainly blessed with a large bosom, but they fit easily in his large hands.  The extra time it took to completely cover them with kisses was certainly enough to whip her excitement into a frothy frenzy. 

 

Not wanting to push her over the edge quite yet, he decided to save some explorations for later and began to position himself over her.  She complied by opening herself to him in the most physically intimate way possible.  A loud groan escaped his throat as he slid easily into place inside her, and she responded in kind with a gasping cry of pleasure. 

 

Moving together, they rode the wave of passion to its rightful conclusion until that wave finally broke, rushing up the smooth shores of complete satisfaction.  As the foam and spray receded, they lay soaked and spent in each other's arms for a long time. 

 

Later Mac would ponder all the significance of what had happened between them, but for now she was content to lay curled up in his strong arms, skin to skin and heart to heart.  Their sweat mingled and dried, their breathing returned to a normal level, and Mac felt herself drawn irresistibly into a peaceful sleep.

 

*******

 

Before she opened her eyes, she remembered where she was - the garage apartment on the farm.  Her eyes fluttered open and the hazy darkness of the room began to take shape, illuminated only by the kitchen light creeping across the apartment and into the bedroom.  But there was something blocking her view of the dresser.  A large form seemed to be in the bed next to her.  The realization flooded back into her consciousness like a crashing wave.   Harm. 

 

As she was remembering what had transpired between them that evening, she heard a muffled sniff and a ragged breath come from his direction.  Was he crying?  She listened for another moment without moving a muscle.  Yes, she was sure he was upset.  But why?

 

"Harm?" she whispered, placing her hand on his shoulder and smoothing it over his back that was turned toward her.  "What's wrong?"

 

Harm had hoped he wouldn't awaken her, but now that she was awake and aware of his emotions, he was relieved to have her near.  He wiped his eyes and turned over, taking her into his arms.  Neither of them had bothered to put any clothes back on before falling asleep, so to feel her warm skin against his was intimately comforting.  He bit his lip and closed his eyes, as two warm drops escaped his lashes.

 

"Harm," she asked again, "What's the matter?"  She looked up into his face and now it was her turn to wipe his cheeks with her fingers.   Considering what had happened this evening, she began to wonder if he was upset about it for some reason.  Did she do something wrong?  Was she not what he had expected?

 

"Talk to me," she pleaded in a raspy whisper, her own emotions welling up in her throat.

 

Harm looked down into her eyes and saw the worry.  "Just . . . . . just thinking about Bud."

 

It took a moment for Mac to switch gears from worrying over what he might be thinking about her, to remembering the horrible circumstances surrounding their friend.  "Oh," was all she could muster, as a new but unwelcome feeling crawled over her:  Guilt.

 

"I woke up and realized where I was, and began remembering everything that happened today.  It's not that I would change anything that has happened between us, but . . . "

 

"We certainly picked a rotten time for it," Mac finished his sentence and sentiment.

 

"Yeah."

 

They were both silent for a moment with their thoughts, holding each other tentatively, not wanting to enjoy it as much as they were.

 

"Harm," Mac began, breaking their silence, "you wouldn't have come out here if it wasn't for the news you were delivering, and I doubt we'd have had the time or the compulsion to even go in this direction if you hadn't.  What happened here today wouldn't have happened if we'd both have been in Washington."

 

"And that's my fault, too, I guess."

 

"I thought you said that was all behind us now - no more thinking about the past, only the future." 

 

"I did, and I meant it.  I just couldn't help thinking that it was some sort of divine practical joke.  That we finally got things straight between us on the same day something really bad happened to one of our friends.  Like it's my punishment for making you wait so long for me, or something."

 

"Harmon Rabb, I have never heard you sound so cynical in all the years I've known you."

 

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm just feeling guilty again."

 

"I know," Mac nodded.  "I am, too."

 

"I mean, why were we able to experience joy while Bud's suffering?"

 

"Well, you could have called me on my cell phone and told me about Bud, but aside from the fact that the Admiral *told* you to tell me in person, you know neither of us could stand to be alone at a time like this."

 

"True."

 

"And," Mac continued, "once you got out here, without the pressures of uniforms and offices, and realizing our need for each other's friendship, the timing was just 'right', you know?"

 

"Yeah, I guess."

 

Mac waited a beat, then said, "Harm, let me ask you a rhetorical question, okay?"

 

"Okay," he agreed.

 

"Where were you on September 11th?"

 

"I had the day off, I was working on my 'Vette.  I'd just gotten the transmission working.  I heard the news on the radio in the garage.  You know that."

 

"Would you say that was a pretty great thing that happened on a pretty bad day?"

 

"Okay, I'll give you that, and I know where you're going with it, but what happened between us is, well, let’s just say the 'Vette is no comparison."

 

"Thank you for the compliment," Mac rolled her eyes, but smiled.

 

"Well, think about it this way," Harm countered her argument.  "Say what happened today with us had happened on 9/11.  People would understand that the national tragedy brought us closer.  But when Bud or Harriet asks us - two of their closest friends – where we were when everyone else was congregating at their house to help and support, what are we going to say?  'Oh, well, we were off in the woods having passionate, soul-stirring sex for the first time.' "

 

Mac blinked.  Did Harm really say "soul-stirring"?  Did he really feel that way, too?

 

"Right?" Harm prodded, not realizing she had been surprised by his assertion.

 

"Oh, yeah, right," she agreed, but not sure to what she was agreeing.

 

"What would *you* tell them about where we were?"

 

"Um, well, I-uh, hmmm . . .. " Mac stammered as she tried to come up with a good explanation.

 

"That would probably be my answer, too" said Harm, shaking his head and giving in to the realization that there was no tactful way of explaining the situation.

 

Mac tried to put aside Harm's "soul-stirring" comment for a moment and focus on what she would say to Harriet.  Her initial instinct to go to her had been strong.  Harriet was her friend, had stood by her and watched as Mac had gone ahead and made plans to marry Mic, but didn't desert her when it became obvious that Mic wasn't the man that held the greatest sway on her heart.  But then Harriet - and Bud, too - had always seemed to understand that there was "something" between Mac and Harm.  Would Harriet understand about today?  Would the younger woman be happy to know that she and Harm had finally made it work, even if it had been on a day of sorrow for her own family?  Mac had seen enough of Harriet's sincere happiness for the good fortune of others that she was sure Harriet would be happy for her and Harm, regardless of the day or circumstance.  The question of how and when to tell her still eluded Mac.

 

Harm couldn't imagine looking into his friend's face and admitting the truth about today.  How could he?  Bud was more than just a friend, he had become like a younger brother over the years.  Harm was crushed to know that the younger man was in pain, and couldn't comprehend what life would be like for Bud from now on.  He knew it was selfish, but he would probably rather die that have to go through life with the loss of a limb.  Of course he almost did die last year, and the thought caused him to wonder if Bud would harbor some resentment toward him.  Well, he probably deserved it.  Even though both had suffered some sadness and pain in their lives, Harm considered his own problems minor compared to Bud's.  Losing a child trumps surviving two plane crashes any day.  And Harm knew he hadn't always been the friend to Bud that Bud had been to him. 

 

Harm had seen the way Bud always looked up to him.  He knew Bud thought his career as a pilot was glamorous and macho compared to his own career, and that was true to an extent.  He also knew Bud looked up to him for advice and encouragement, which Harm tried to dispense to the best of his ability.  But he also knew that he had used Bud - within the scope of JAG duties - to run errands, do research and chase down leads - duties that were below Bud's rank and abilities, and certainly not things Harm would ask a friend to do for him.  But he trusted Bud to not only get the job done, but to get it done above and beyond what was expected.  Bud's intelligence and perspective had won the day in court more times than Harm could count, and he couldn't think of anyone he would rather work with more on a difficult case, except maybe Mac.

 

Harm figured the beginning of their friendship - their connection as just two people and not just co-workers - probably began that night right before Bud's wedding when they shared a beer and Bud told him about his father's abusive nature.  Harm treated Bud with more respect after that, and their friendship grew to the point that being there for each other was a given.

 

"Hey, Mac," Harm began in a soft voice.

 

"What?"

 

"I never told you this, but when you were in Indonesia during that embassy riot, Bud and Harriet came into my office and waited with me until we got the news that you were all right."

 

"They did?"

 

"Yeah.  I guess I wasn't doing such a good job of hiding my anxiety about it."

 

"You were really worried about me?"

 

"I was.  And Bud and Harriet knew it.  It was comforting to know they were there."

 

"Just like they were for me last year when your plane went down.  And now we're not there for them."

 

"Right."

 

"So what are we going to do about it?  It's 10:58 at night."

 

"Want to call?  I'm sure someone will still be up."

 

"Good idea," Mac said.  She hopped up and scurried to the living room to dig her cell phone out of her bag.  The window was still open in that room and the chill surprised her as she scampered across the cold floor.  She practically dove back under the covers and into Harm's warm and waiting embrace. 

 

"Cold?" he teased, rubbing his hands briskly over her arms.

 

"Oh, hush!  Just hold me a second until I warm up."

 

Harm complied and pulled her back up against his chest, tucking his legs in behind hers.  "Better?"

 

"Mmmmm . . .Much."

 

"Hurry up and call, and then I can warm you up even more," Harm said in a low, tempting voice, his hands straying down to her waist and hips.  He couldn't have resisted the rising desire within him any more than he could hold back the tides.

 

"I'm trying, but you're tickling me!" Mac protested.

 

Harm rolled away from her and grabbed a stray pillow to hug while he waited for Mac to place the call.

 

+++

 

"Hello, Roberts' residence."

 

"Uh, hi.  Bobbie?"

 

"Yes, is that you, Colonel?"

 

"Yes," Mac replied, relieved to know that the strong, cool-headed congresswoman was still there holding down the fort.  "I was just calling to see how Harriet is doing, and if there was any news from the Sea Hawk."

 

"Harriet is sleeping now.  She held up pretty good for most of the day, but when it was time to put AJ to bed, she fell apart."

 

"Oh, dear."

 

"The Admiral has called twice this evening with news."

 

"What?"  Mac said, eager but wary.

 

"Bud is in stable, but critical, condition on board the Sea Hawk, and they are going to fly him to Germany in about 36 - 48 hours.   He didn't loose as much blood as they had originally thought, and there were no other injuries, just a few cuts and bruises."  Bobbie's calm demeanor was encouraging.

 

"So they think he'll be fine?"

 

"Yes.  The Admiral said he would let Harriet travel to Germany in a few days, and her parents are going to stay in town to care for AJ until both Bud and Harriet return to the states.   That could be anywhere from a week to a month, depending on how soon they feel Bud can travel after his surgery there."

 

"Who's staying with her overnight?"

 

"I am, then Sturgis will pick up her parents from the airport in the morning.  They'll take over from there."

 

"Oh," Mac said, wondering why she suddenly felt the need to be needed by Harriet.

 

"Are *you* okay, Mac?"

 

"Yeah, I'm fine.  I was shocked to hear about it, but I'm okay now."

 

"Harm still there?"

 

"Uh, yes."

 

"You two taking good care of each other?" 

 

Mac noticed that Bobbie's tone wasn't just concerned it was slightly conspiratorial.  "I think so," Mac replied.  Trying to be as brief as possible so Harm wouldn't know Bobbie was asking about him. 

 

"Well, you two take care, and tell Harm I said 'hi', okay?"

 

"Uh, sure.  Do you want my cell phone number in case Harriet needs me?"

 

"No, that's all right.  She doesn't want to bother you.  Besides, I have Harm's number in case I need to get a hold of either of you - which I doubt."

 

Mac cringed.  Bobbie not only knew that she and Harm would be together, but Harriet knew as well.  So much for tact.

 

"Okay, well, tell her hello and give her a hug for me, okay?"

 

"Okay, and one from Harm, too?"

 

Mac cringed again.  Bobbie was really enjoying this.  Mac decided to play it cool.  "Yeah, sure."

 

"Great.  Well, I'll tell her you called, but don't worry, we've got everything under control here, okay?"

 

"Okay.  Thanks, Bobbie.  Bye."

 

"Bye."

 

++++

 

"Well?"

 

Mac clicked off her phone and laid it on the nightstand.  "Bud's stable, but critical."

 

"Stable is good."

 

"Yes," Mac replied, and relayed the rest of the news, omitting the fact that Bobbie seemed to know as much about their own situation as she did about Bud's. 

 

"There's something else, isn't there."  It was a statement, not a question.

 

Mac sighed.  "She knows."

 

"Knows what?"

 

"That we're together."

 

"Who, Bobbie?  I'm sure Sturgis told her, what's the big deal about that?"

 

"No, *Harriet* knows."

 

"Oh."

 

They lay there in silence for a few moments, thinking.

 

"I guess the bottom line is, when all is said and done, was it worth it?"  Harm asked her in a quiet voice.

 

His simple question struck at the root of the issue, and Mac mulled it over for a moment.  Was it worth it?  Were the hours they had spent today talking, discovering, and more, been a valuable use of time, regardless of what else was going on in the world? 

 

Mac considered all the issues they had discussed, all the truths they had uncovered, and the culmination of years of tension, uncertainty and waiting.  It had all come together today in one great cosmic convergence.  A month, a year, ten years from now, the yin and yang of the day would still be remembered.  Like the babies that were born on 9/11, the happy and sad sometimes happens on the same day in our lives, Mac thought.  While she knew the memory of this day would bring sadness to them all, it would also bring joy for her and Harm.  While it was unfortunate that the consummation of their relationship will forever be associated with Bud's misfortune, she couldn't have waited another moment for it.

 

"Yes, it was worth every minute," she finally replied.

 

"I was hoping you'd say that," Harm breathed into her neck, his hands renewing their explorations.

 

"Harm?"

 

"Mm-hmm," he mumbled into her shoulder between kisses.

 

"Tell me what you meant when you said 'soul-stirring'."

 

"How about you stop talking so I can show you."

 

Mac was about to verbally agree, but Harm's insistent kisses made it completely impossible.  Then the stirring of souls began again.

 

Later, they lay again in each other’s arms, their bodies simmering with ebbing tide of spent passion.

 

"Harm," Mac asked between heavy breaths.

 

"Yeah," Harm replied, panting a little himself.

 

"Are we glowing, or am I just seeing stars?"

 

Harm chuckled.  She was not only every bit and more the lover he could have ever hoped for, she also had a good sense of humor about it all.

 

"Hmmmm . . . ," he pondered and lifted her chin to look into her face.  "You know what I think?"

 

"What?" she asked.

 

"I think it's because, after all these years of digging, we've finally struck gold.

++Fini++