Title: Hero of the Month

Author: LobsterDoc (ktleepitt@aol.com)

Rating: PG only because I sometimes use words not fit for children.

Category: Romance (H/M, who else?)

Disclaimer: The standard disclaimers apply. JAG is owned by Bellisarius Productions and Paramount. I do not profit from borrowing any of these characters.

Spoilers: Anything prior to season 9 is fair game.

Summary: After Mac rescues 9 children from a school bus accident, she and Harm become… close.

Thanks again to my marvelous beta reader AeroGirl.

Friday Feb 13th

It was only 9 am and Sarah Mackenzie had already had a thoroughly crappy day. It wasn’t bad enough that a power failure had disabled her alarm clock on the same day that her usually keen sense of timing had decided to take a powder. Already 26 minutes late waking up, she had wasted an additional 12 minutes and 10 seconds searching for just one pair of pantyhose that didn’t have a run in them. In her haste to make up for lost time she had slammed her foot on the edge of her dresser. That had cost her an additional 9 minutes of cursing and icing. Her little toe and the side of her foot, swollen to twice their normal size, would not fit into her pumps, forcing her to change out of her class A uniform and into her uniform pants and black oxfords. Another 7 minutes wasted. She rushed out of her apartment, 48 minutes behind schedule and realized, too late, why her power had gone out. As she hit the icy steps, her feet flew up in the air and she landed unceremoniously on her backside on the sidewalk, her ankle throbbing in tandem with her toe. She limped to her car and drove out of the parking lot, knowing that the roads would be awful and that she had absolutely no chance of making it to JAG in time for staff call. She should have known better than to expect anything would work on Friday the 13^th.

Deciding that it didn’t matter what road she took to work, since they would all be parking lots, Mac opted for the scenic route. The sun shining through the ice on the trees gave DC a luster it sometimes lacked in the winter. It was pretty to look at, she conceded, if not easy to drive on. She called JAG headquarters to inform Tiner that she would be late. He assured her there would be no problem. The admiral, too, was stuck in traffic, so staff call had been postponed. Breathing a sigh of relief, she felt herself relax. Maybe the rest of the day wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Crawling along, she found herself behind a yellow mini van with a wheelchair lift, packed to the gills with kids. Two of the kids in the back smiled and waved at her. She returned the smiles and waved. One of them made a funny face and she did the same, delighted at their laughter. As they waited for the light to turn green the game continued, further lightening her mood. The light turned and traffic moved slowly forward. Mac waved to the kids and started to turn left, but a flash of color grabbed her attention and she slammed on her brakes, barely controlling the subsequent skid. As she watched, horrified, a black sports car fish-tailed into the intersection, slamming into the van and propelling both vehicles over the embankment.

Without hesitating, Mac grabbed her cell phone and got out of her car. She tossed her cell phone to a bystander. "Call 911!" she ordered, hurrying across the street to where the van had disappeared. She plowed her way through the crowd to look over the edge and was dismayed to see the van submerged on its side in a shallow pond about twenty feet below the road. For a moment, she just stood there like everybody else, mesmerized by the tragedy unfolding just a few feet away. But unlike the other bystanders on the road that day, Mac had been trained to respond to a crisis, and within a few seconds her training kicked in.

She slid, tumbled and scrambled her way down the icy slope to the pond, landing in a heap against a retaining wall. She climbed up onto the wall, and steeling herself for the cold, jumped into the water. As soon as she hit the water, she was disoriented. Everything hurt and she couldn’t remember how to breathe. She resurfaced gasping for breath, momentarily unsure of what she was doing. She whirled her head around and caught sight of the van. Her task suddenly in focus, she staggered toward the children.

The water was shallow, but the cold was already taking a toll on her. By the time she got to the back door of the van, she was numb. She could barely get her fingers to work to open the latch, but somehow she managed to wrestle the doors open. She reached blindly inside the van, grabbing the first body part she encountered. She emerged with a tiny girl, shaking uncontrollably but conscious and breathing. Mac cradled her in her arms and moved toward the bank, setting her gently on the retaining wall.

She slogged back to the van, emerging with another little girl, this one unconscious. Mac checked her breathing and wrestled her up onto the wall. She turned back to the van, only to find that the van had sunk a little deeper and that the doors were now completely submerged. Intent on only one thing, she plunged under the water and through the open doors. She grabbed a tiny arm and tugged, but the child wouldn’t budge. She felt around for the body attached to the arm and discovered a belt. Her lungs burning, Mac was forced to leave the van. She broke the surface, took a quick breath and went back in. She found the arm again, undid the harness and carried the child to the surface. As she struggled toward the bank, a pair of hands reached for the child she cradled.

Meanwhile, at JAG Headquarters

Harm, delayed by the weather himself, walked into Jag Ops, 90 minutes late. He hurried toward his office, hoping to avoid the admiral. He hated being late, especially when it wasn’t his fault. He would never understand how just a little bit of winter weather turned Washingtonians into complete idiots on the roads.

He had nearly made it to his office when he noticed a number of people gathered around one of the large tv’s. He wandered over.

"Hey," he asked Harriet, "What’s up?"

Harriet turned to him. "A school bus went off the road into a pond, and a Marine jumped into the water and has been pulling the kids out."

Harm shivered involuntarily, remembering how cold the Atlantic had felt in the spring. He could only imagine what that half-frozen pond would be like. "He’s going to need a trip to Bethesda when this is over."

"Yes, sir. The water must be pretty cold."

Harm turned toward the screen and watched, fascinated, as the Marine carried a small child toward the wall and handed him to a man standing waist-deep in the water. The Marine went back to the van and submerged. Three more times he went back, dove under the water and returned with a child. Each time the crowd cheered loudly as if urging the hero onto victory. The fourth time he submerged, the Marine came up empty handed. He submerged several more times, coming up empty each time and then turned toward the bank, clearly spent. One cameraman lucked out and got close enough to focus on the hero's face as the Marine collapsed against the retaining wall and bystanders reached down to pull him onto dry land. Harm and Harriet stiffened simultaneously as Tiner shouted, "My God, that’s Colonel MacKenzie!"

Georgetown University Hospital, 45 minutes later

A sharp sting inside her elbow brought her almost to consciousness. She tried to pull her arm away but it was held fast. A soothing voice called her name from far away and then faded as she slipped back into the abyss. Sometime later, a painful tug on her ankle interrupted her slumber. Another sting, this time in her hand, pulled her closer to the surface. Somebody gently called her name, urging her to rejoin the rest of the world. She resisted. In the dark she was warm and safe, nothing bothered her, nothing bad would happen. She liked it there. Something pressed on a sore spot on her ribs and she squirmed, trying to get away. She cried out and then opened her eyes, her connection to the world reestablished, at least for the moment.

A face appeared in her field of vision. "Colonel MacKenzie, do you know where you are?"

She knew she was in a bed and there were personnel all around her. It looked like a hospital. Mac opened her mouth to speak but could not summon her voice. She settled for nodding her head in the affirmative. She was pretty sure she was in the hospital.

"Do you know what happened to you?"

Mac considered the question for a moment and realized that she had no idea what had happened after she left her house. She remembered being late and falling on the steps, but the rest of the morning was a complete blank. The next thing she remembered was clinging to a wall, shivering uncontrollably, gagging and gasping for air. She couldn’t remember where that was or how she got there. Was that even today? She had a memory, more like an impression, of strong hands pulling her out of water, a blanket thrown over her body and a gentle voice telling her that she would be all right. But she couldn’t make sense of any of it.

Her confusion must have shown on her face because the nurse -- at least Mac thought the woman was a nurse -- patted her shoulder and reassured her that it was normal to have some memory loss due to hypothermia. This explanation, rather than clearing up her confusion, only made things more foggy, but before she could ask any questions, Mac felt herself drifting away again.

"How do you feel? Are you in any pain?"

Mac managed to force out one word. "Tired," she mumbled as she drifted back into the warm, comfortable darkness.

In another part of the hospital about the same time

Harm moved quickly through the busy ER with the grace and skill of a man who had spent his life navigating the unfriendly skies. He had one goal in mind: someone, anyone, who could tell him how to get to Mac, and that she was all right. As he made his way through the throngs of patients and emergency personnel, he spotted a young woman in blue scrubs with a stethoscope around her neck. He made a beeline for her.

"’Scuse me, Ma’am. I’m looking for a patient, Sarah MacKenzie. I was told she was brought in here this morning?"

"I’m sorry, but you’ll have to ask at admitting," she answered tersely as she moved past him.

"Where is that!?" he asked, his frustration growing.

The young woman stopped, turned and answered, more patiently this time, "Down the hall to your left. You can’t miss it. I’m sure they can help you."

"Thank you," Harm answered more effusively than really necessary.

Thirty minutes later, Harm walked toward the room but stopped as he got to the door. Mac was completely covered by a warming blanket pulled up to her chin, an IV line snaking out from under the blanket to the bag hanging over her head. Her hair, apparently dried hurriedly, stuck out randomly. She was pale with a slightly bluish tinge around her lips. A dusky discoloration was just visible around her right eye.

He walked slowly into the room and sat gingerly in the chair beside her bed, trying not to wake her. He stayed in the chair, elbows resting on his knees, for the next hour, simply content to watch the steady rise and fall of her chest. Before they let him in to see her, the doctors had told Harm that she would be all right. Her temperature had come up to nearly normal and her injuries, though numerous, were all minor. She would be sore for a while, but there would be no lasting damage. She could probably go home tomorrow if her temperature stayed stable.

The vibration of the cell phone in his pocket broke into his thoughts. He opened it, whispered, "Rabb," and walked out into the hallway to update the Admiral. Giving his CO an update was the least he could do after accosting him in JAG OPS to get permission to come to the hospital.

"Yes, Sir. The doctors said she would be fine. She has a laceration on her hand and a pretty nasty sprained ankle, some assorted bumps and bruises and ah, the hypothermia, of course."

<Have you spoken to her?> AJ asked, his relief obvious.

"No, Sir. She’s still sleeping. I can come back to the office if you need me, Admiral."

"All right, Sir. I’ll stay a little longer to see if I can speak with her and I’ll be back in the office. Goodbye, Sir."

He walked back into her room and was surprised to see her eyes were open. She was gazing intently at him. "Hey," she said, softly, as if it hurt to talk.

He walked in and retook his seat in the chair next to her bed. "Hey, yourself. How’re you feeling?"

"Not great. My head hurts and I’m really cold." She shifted in place and winced. "Did you get the number of that truck?"

Harm chuckled. "I heard it was a school bus?" he prompted her gently, wanting to see what she remembered but not wanting to push too hard.

Mac paused and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling as if searching her memory. She sighed, "I remember being really late for work and falling down my front steps. I think I hurt my ankle. I remember the bus and being in the water, but the details are pretty fuzzy." She paused, swallowing audibly.

"Hey, you ok?"

"Yeah," she answered warily. "Oh my god!" she cried out as she tried unsuccessfully to extricate herself from the bedclothes. "The kids! Are they ok?"

Harm sprang from the chair and gently held her down. "Easy there, Marine. The kids are fine. You got them all out. They’re all going to be ok."

Mac struggled with him for a minute and then sank back onto the pillow, groaning, her eyes closed against the pain that even a simple movement caused. She took a couple of deep breaths and opened her eyes. "Are you sure? They’re really ok?"

Harm leaned back in the chair. "I’m sure. They’re fine, Mac. All of them."

"Good. That’s good. I was afraid they hadn’t gotten out." She stifled a yawn. "Damn, I’m tired."

Harm, taking his cue from the patient, and remembering how tired he had been after his accident, stood and placed a gentle hand on the side of her face. "You rest now. I have to get back to the office. I’ll see you later. Ok?"

Her eyes had already closed. "’Kay. See you later," she mumbled.

The next morning, early

Mac lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. Her internal clock, finally working again after thawing out with the rest of her, told her she had been awake for two hours and that it was 07:00: too early to ask a doctor to release her and therefore too early to call Harm to come get her. She had been lying here, bored out of her mind, counting the ceiling tiles in every language she knew. She had counted 97 of them in English, Farsi, Russian, Japanese and German, but had only counted 39 tiles in French. (She was a little rusty.) She had carefully but systematically stretched every one of her sore muscles. Most of her felt better having moved around a bit, except for her left ankle and her right hand. On closer inspection she discovered her hand was wrapped in a heavy white bandage and her ankle, a victim of her icy steps, encased in an air cast. As she gingerly flexed her hand, she wondered, idly, how she had injured it, and another piece of her memory slid into place. When she had reached in for one of the kids there was a piece of glass or metal and she had cut her palm. She shivered involuntarily as memories of her unscheduled swim came rushing back.

She jumped sky high when Harm called from her doorway.

"Cold?"

"Geez, Harm. Scare me to death, why don’t you?" She hit the button near her left hand, raising the bed into the upright position. To her relief, she managed the maneuver without any noticeable pain.

He walked toward the bed, chuckling. "Sorry. You seem better this morning."

"Yeah, I feel a lot better. The fog seems to be lifting and I’m not so cold, but every muscle in my body hurts."

"Yeah, I remember that feeling. I think it’s from all that shivering."

"Maybe…um, why are you here so early?"

"Wweelll," he answered slyly, drawing a bag from behind his back, "I thought you might like some real breakfast." He held the bag, from a local deli, dangling just out of her reach.

"Hey, no fair. Gimme. I’m a sick woman," Mac whined, laughing. God, that food smelled good.

Harm stalled a moment longer, as if trying to make a decision.

"C’mon, Harm. I’m starving here. I slept through dinner."

"Oh my god! This is an emergency!" He relented, handing her the bag.

She opened it and hauled out a foil-wrapped breakfast sandwich. It smelled heavenly. She unwrapped it and had it halfway to her mouth when a thought occurred to her. "Am I supposed to be on a bland diet?" she asked, chuckling.

"It’s ok. Dig in. I asked your doctor last night."

He opened a matching bag and pulled out a coffee for each of them and a bagel and cream cheese for himself. They ate in companionable silence.

Just as they were finishing up the doctor came into the room. "Good morning, Colonel MacKenzie, Commander Rabb. How are you feeling this morning, Sarah?"

"A lot better, now that I’ve had some real food. When can I get out of here?"

"Let me take a look. If everything checks out we’ll talk about springing you. How’s that sound?"

"Good. Let’s get this show on the road." She hated hospitals.

The doctor took his stethoscope from around his neck and looked pointedly at Harm.

Harm chuckled awkwardly. "I’ll, ah, just be out in the hall if you need me." He left the room. He was so easy to embarrass when it came to her.

"OK, Sarah, let’s take a listen to your lungs, shall we?" He helped her sit forward and put the stethoscope against her back. "Take as deep a breath as you can."

Mac’s attempt to breathe deeply ended in an ugly sounding cough that left her gasping. The doctor moved the stethoscope to her chest and asked for another breath. This time she managed a deep breath without asphyxiating herself.

As the doctor took the stethoscope away, she looked at him expectantly. He remained silent. He took out a light and shined it into her eyes. To her relief the light didn’t make her headache worse. The doctor continued to poke and prod her and even unwrapped and examined the nasty looking line of stitches on her palm.

Finally she couldn’t take any more. "Well?" she asked, impatiently.

"I think we can release you today."

"Yes! When can I get out of here?" Mac asked gleefully.

The doctor held up his hand, hoping to temper her enthusiasm. "Your release is dependent on certain conditions, Colonel." He walked to the doorway. "Commander, you can come back in now."

When Harm had come back in, the doctor turned toward Mac. "As I said, you can be released this morning as soon as you can get yourself suited up and ready to go. However you’re not going to be released until I’m convinced that you’ll abide by the conditions of your release."

"She will," Harm answered decisively, preventing Mac from voicing the objection on the tip of her tongue.

The doctor looked from Harm back to Mac, who reluctantly nodded her agreement. Did they think she was a child?

"OK. You have a pretty badly sprained ankle, a cracked metatarsal and broken toe, a minor concussion and a nasty laceration on your palm. You’re also probably feeling pretty run down from the hypothermia and the congestion in your lungs. If I release you this morning, you will spend the next 48 hours in bed or on your couch. Hot baths are ok, walks in the park are not."

"But…" Mac tried to interrupt but a look from Harm and the doctor silenced her. "I’m listening," she continued sullenly. She was not feeling particularly cooperative.

"Because of the concussion and the ankle injury you are going to be unsteady on your feet. That, coupled with the potential for pneumonia, is not a good combo, so I want somebody staying with you for the weekend."

"That’s no problem," Harm answered, a bit too enthusiastically for Mac’s taste. She shot him a glare. To her annoyance, he smirked back.

"I have prescriptions here for pain medication and an antibiotic. You lungs are a bit congested and that’s a deep cut on your hand. Lord knows what was living in that frog pond. The pain medication is optional, but you need to take the antibiotics until the bottle is finished. Do you have any questions?"

"Do I get a say in any of this?" Mac asked tersely. They were really starting to tick her off.

"No!" exclaimed Harm and the doctor simultaneously.

"Colonel, even though this isn’t a military hospital, we are required to file a fitness report with your CO. The conditions will be included. Or you could just stay here for the weekend."

"No, that’s ok. Bed for the weekend? No problem," Mac answered, capitulating suddenly. She would agree to almost anything to get out of the hospital.

"Any other questions?" the doctor asked, trying to smother his laughter.

"What about work? Do I have any duty restrictions?"

"Well, your chart says you’re at JAG. You’re a lawyer, right? Well, I would say you can go back to work Wednesday, but only to desk duty for the first couple of weeks. I want to give that ankle a chance to heal some. After that you can resume courtroom duties."

Mac gaped at him, speechless, while Harm nodded his assent. "We often do field investigations, carriers, remote air bases, crime scenes. When can Mac get back into the field?"

"I don’t think she’ll be ready for field investigations for six weeks, conservatively. We’ll have to wait and see how her foot heals."

Mac jumped down his throat. "Wait a minute, here. I thought it was just a sprain?" She knew she was overreacting, but she hated being discussed like she wasn't even in the room.

"Not JUST a sprain, Colonel. There’s a small crack in one of the bones in your foot. I think you said you kicked a dresser? The original injury was exacerbated by your rescue of the children. Not that I think you shouldn’t have done that, but you have to live with the consequences, unfortunately."

He waited for some reaction from Mac, but she decided to keep her mouth shut, hoping to expedite her release. The doctor stood and moved toward the door. "OK, Sarah. I’ll sign your release order and forward the fitness report to JAG. If you don’t have any other questions, I have sick people to tend to."

Harm stood and shook hands with the doctor. "Thanks, Doc. We appreciate everything you’ve done. I’ll keep an eye on her this weekend."

Mac snorted sarcastically. His light, conspiratorial tone annoyed Mac to no end. He was enjoying this way too much.

Both men glanced toward her, as she glared at them. The doctor leaned in and whispered, "Good luck, Commander."

The morning after Mac's release

Harm awoke with a start, confused. Why was he sleeping on a couch? Mac's couch? He blinked a couple of times and remembered why he was in Mac's living room. She had finally been released early in the afternoon. He had brought her home and tried to get her to eat something, but she had begged off and retired to her bedroom. She had slept most of the afternoon. He had managed to get some soup into her at dinner time and she had gone back to sleep. She had slept so peacefully that he had even had time to get some work done before sacking out on Mac's couch. Then, at 0200, Mac had had a coughing fit. He had gone into her room and calmed her down, gently rocking her back and forth in his arms. Her breathing had quieted and eventually she relaxed into slumber.

She slept more-or-less peacefully for the rest of the night. He, on the other hand, was a nervous wreck. Every time he would begin to drift off, she would make a small noise in her sleep and he was instantly on alert. Consequently, by 0700, he had barely slept at all. He wondered idly if that was what it was like to have a child. It sure explained why Bud and Harriet were so tired. He just couldn't sleep when the woman he loved… loved?? ...needed him. Eventually he had fallen asleep, visions of Mac dancing in his head.

He shook his head, wondering again what had woken him, five hours later. Pizza? He definitely smelled pizza. He rolled over and smiled at the sight of Mac sitting in the kitchen devouring a pepperoni pizza. She was pale and looked a bit shaky, but she had obviously made it to the kitchen under her own power.

In the midst of inhaling her fourth piece of pizza Mac had the unmistakable feeling that she was being watched. She glanced up to see the top of Harm's head and his eyes peeking up over the back of her couch. His eyes crinkled in what must have been a smile. She smiled back. He was so cute sometimes.

"'Morning," he called, struggling up from the couch.

"Hey," she replied, cautiously, testing her voice. She eyed him suspiciously as he continued to struggle up from the couch, his hands moving to the small of his back, a brief flicker of pain crossing his face. "You ok?"

"Me? Am I ok? You're the one who was in the hospital yesterday, Mac. Why wouldn't I be ok?"

"Your back is bothering you." It wasn't a question. She could see that he was in pain.

"Ah, a little. No big deal." He brushed her off before changing the subject. "How're you feeling?"

"I'm fine, just a little sore," she lied. Two could play this game. There was no need to tell him that she was still freezing or that her head was pounding and her ankle aching, or that she had been up for exactly 87 minutes and needed another nap. If he was fine after sleeping on her incredibly uncomfortable couch, then she was fine after a night's sleep in her nice, comfy bed.

Later that afternoon

Harm listened by the door as she ran the water and then climbed into the tub. When he was satisfied that she was safely ensconced, he went about looking for something to heat up for dinner. Soup seemed like just the right thing, he decided and luckily, Mac usually had soup and bread on hand. He continued to putter in the kitchen, one ear on the bathroom, just to be on the safe side.

After thirty minutes with no sound from her, he began to get a little concerned. He waited another five minutes and went over to the bathroom door. Thinking that maybe she had fallen asleep, he knocked softly.

Getting no reply, he knocked again and called through the door, "Hey, Mac, you all right in there?"

"Yes," came her muffled but unmistakably annoyed reply.

"Just wanted to be sure you were ok. You’ve been in there a long time."

"Yes, Harm. I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute," she answered a little louder and with exaggerated patience.

"Well, um, ok, dinner will be ready in a few."

"Thank you. I’ll be out in a minute."

Satisfied that everything was ok, Harm checked on the garlic bread in the oven and plopped onto Mac’s couch. He fell into a light doze only to awaken several minutes later to the smell of something burning. He ran to the kitchen but not in time to retrieve the ruined garlic bread from the oven before it burst into flames and set off the smoke detector. He opened a window and fanned the smoke detector, which stopped squealing after a few seconds. After running some water on the charred baguette, he checked his watch and wondered what had become of Mac.

As he walked toward her bathroom he heard loud splashing and soft mumbling. As he got closer to the door the splashing got louder and the mumbling became audible cursing. As he got to the door there was a splash and a loud, pain-filled curse.

Without hesitation, or forethought, Harm burst through the door and into the bathroom. "Mac! Are you ok?"

"Harm! What are you doing?"

He actually skidded to a stop when he realized what he had done. Mac was draped over the side of the tub, half in the water and half out. She was stark naked.

His entire body turned red-hot as he turned his head away and mumbled an apology. "God, Mac, I’m s-sorry. S-so s-sorry…" he stuttered as he back out of the bathroom.

Mac snorted. "Well now that you’ve seen all there is to see, could you please help me out of the tub?"

"What?!" he asked, thunderstruck.

"I’m stuck, Harm. I called you for 6 minutes and 18 seconds. The water’s getting cold and with my hand and my ankle I can’t climb out of the tub. I finally gave up and tried to crawl out, but you see how well that worked. Give me a hand, will ya?" She obviously found the situation hysterically funny. He definitely did not.

"Um, sure."

Forcing himself to look at her, he swallowed audibly before trying to separate her from the bathtub. He put his forearms under her armpits, crouched and lifted her awkwardly toward the toilet, trying to prevent body contact. When she was safely perched on the toilet seat, he walked to the other side of the bathroom and grabbed a towel. He threw it at her.

Mac caught the towel and started drying her hair. As Harm struggled to look anywhere but at her, Mac began to laugh outright. Harm sighed, annoyed with both her and himself, and decided to make a strategic retreat. As he exited the bathroom, Mac made a strangled sound followed by a harsh, wet cough.

"That’s what you get, Marine, for making fun of me," he gloated as he left the bathroom. He waited expectantly for a comeback. Instead Mac gagged twice and wheezed out his name. He ran back into the bathroom and knelt in front of her, resting her forehead on his shoulder trying to quiet her strident respirations. He rubbed his hand in small circles on her back. "Easy, Mac. In and out. That’s it. You’re ok. Shh," he murmured as Mac’s breathing slowed and quieted. They stayed that way, simply enjoying the comfort of their closeness long after Mac’s breathing had returned to normal. Mac’s chattering teeth finally broke the spell.

"Cold?" Harm asked, chuckling.

"My robe's on the door. Could you get it?" Mac began to shiver in earnest when Harm went to get the robe. He brought it to her and they left the bathroom arm in arm.

Later that evening

Mac lay curled on her side drowsily watching him. He had turned off the tv and the lights and was just walking into the bedroom. He had tried to fight her when she had ordered him off the couch and into her bed, but she had won the argument. It was obvious that his back was bothering him after sleeping on the couch last night, but he claimed he was fine. Suspicious that he was afraid of hurting her, she had hastened to assure him that the bed was plenty big enough for the two of them and that she wasn't up to anything but sleeping if that's what was worrying him. He had finally relented.

As he climbed into the bed, he rolled onto his side, facing her and brushed the hair out of her eyes in a surprisingly intimate gesture. "You feel ok? You warm enough?"

"Yeah. I’m fine. The tea and soup were just what the doctor ordered. Thank god Uncle Ho’s delivers."

"Yeah, I think your oven is going to need a stint in rehab."

"And I’m going to have to do favors for my neighbors for weeks. The smoke alarm probably scared them out of their wits."

"I should think they could cut a genuine hero a little slack, Colonel."

She turned away. She sure didn't feel like a hero. She couldn't even remember most of the rescue.

Harm gently caressed her cheek. "Hey. You are a hero, you know."

"Yeah, I guess. I just wish I could remember the details better. I feel a little bit like I’m living somebody else’s story."

"I know what you mean. It’s like having a car accident and then not being able to tell the cops what happened even though you just went through it. It took me weeks to put together my mishap, even after the rest of my memory fell into place. You’ll figure it out."

"I know that. I’m not obsessing about it. It's just unsettling. At least I feel better physically."

"I’m glad. You had me pretty worried when you stopped breathing there in the bathroom."

"I thought you said it served me right, Harm?" she teased.

"That was before I knew you were actually suffocating."

They laid together in the dark, listening to each other breathing and began to drift to sleep.

"Harm, can I ask you something?" she whispered, her voice still echoing in the darkness.

"Sure," he answered sleepily.

"In the bathroom, when you burst in like that, were you embarrassed to see me?"

"You mean helpless or in your birthday suit?" he teased drowsily.

Mac was just tired enough that his teasing aggravated her. "You’ve seen me helpless before, Harm," she grumbled.

He reached over and touched her shoulder in an oddly comforting gesture. "I was embarrassed by the whole thing, Mac," he answered gently. She smiled and he continued more lightly, "That’s not exactly how I fantasized my first time seeing you in all your glory. Heck, I was too stunned to even look for your tattoo!" She laughed, and he chuckled with her. "It was pretty funny, wasn’t it?"

"You should have seen the look on your face, when you barged into the room like you were being chased by the demons of hell."

"OK, OK," he protested good-naturedly. "So it wasn’t my finest moment. But geez, the two of us hardly even fit into that bathroom."

"Yeah, it was kind of close quarters," Mac agreed wistfully. Had he felt the same tension that she had?

"It was kind of nice, wasn’t it?" Harm asked gently.

"Yeah," Mac answered just as gently, "It was. Maybe we could do it again sometime. Um, when I’m really up to enjoying it. And without the hypothermia." Was this going where she thought it was?

Harm reached for her hand and squeezed it gently, "I’d like that. When the time is right…I think it will happen for us, Mac."

Mac’s lips parted in an "oh" expression. She swallowed, bracing herself. She wasn't sure she had heard him correctly, or understood his meaning. "Really?" she whispered, childlike.

"Yeah," Harm whispered and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips, which she returned.

Her heart full and her mind reeling, she snuggled closer to him and pulled the blanket up around her neck. They both wiggled around a bit, finding the most comfortable position and drifted off to sleep.

Monday, dinner time

Mac was rummaging around in her kitchen, bored out of her mind. She had cleaned the refrigerator and the lower cabinets, but stopped short of climbing a step stool to clean the wall cabinets. She had promised Harm and the doctors and the Admiral and everybody else who had called over the weekend that she would stay home today and take it easy. She had done what she had promised but it was killing her. She had to admit that sometimes she craved solitude and a day or two with nothing to do and nowhere to go, but she hated enforced inactivity. She couldn't wait to go back to work after the doctor cleared her tomorrow. She was contemplating cleaning the top of the fridge. She grabbed a chair and moved it toward the front of the sink when she heard Harm at the door. She hastily put the chair back and hid the evidence of her cleaning activities.

"Hey," Mac called from the kitchen as he entered her apartment. "I called the pizza guy. Should be here in about 10 minutes." She turned toward him and noticed a large white grocery bag. "What’s in the bag?"

"Food from Harriet. Bud said it was leftovers, but there’s enough stuff in here for a month." He put the bag on the counter next to the fridge.

Mac opened the bag. "She must have been cooking all weekend! I won’t have to cook for at least a week!" she said gleefully. Every time she ate at Bud and Harriet's she came back with tons of leftovers. She loved Harriet's leftovers.

"Cook?" Harm asked sarcastically.

"Hey, be nice. I do cook occasionally. I can even make garlic bread without burning down the building," she flung back at him as she moved to put Harriet's food in the fridge.

"Ok, ok. I guess I deserved that," he chuckled. Sobering, he continued, "Bud sent something, too."

"Oh yeah?" she replied from inside the open fridge.

"Yeah," Harm answered, so seriously that Mac closed the door and moved toward him, alarmed.

"What is it?" she asked, gesturing toward the bundle in his hand.

"A video tape."

"What?" she asked, taking the bundle from him and unwrapping it. "The latest Far Scape? The last season of Buffy?" she asked with forced brightness. His wariness was making her nervous.

"Footage from ZNN’s coverage of the rescue," he answered softly.

"My rescue?" she asked tentatively, not sure she was ready.

"Yeah. Um, Bud thought you might want to see it, so he taped it. I guess they showed it over and over again all weekend. He thought the details might be a little fuzzy. So…" he trailed off.

Mac was shocked and then overwhelmed. "God. How did he know?"

"I’m not sure. He mumbled something about his accident and details. You know Bud. Harriet, too. They practically knocked me over this morning trying to find out how you were feeling. Harriet spent most of the day fielding phone calls for you and keeping reporters away from me."

"They’re so lucky to have each other," she said quietly, almost reverently. She had always envied them their closeness.

"Yeah, they are," Harm said moving closer to her. "And we’re lucky to have them."

"Yeah," she sighed. She gazed into his eyes before continuing, "Do you think we’ll ever have that, Harm?"

"Yeah, Mac, I do. Don’t you?"

Her breath caught in her throat and she leaned in closer to nuzzle under his chin. "No second thoughts, no hesitation?" What in the hell was going on with him?

"Not this time," he whispered into her hair.

"What’s going on here, Harm? What are we doing?"

Harm pulled her away from his shoulder, caught her chin in his hand and lifted her face. He kissed her gently on the lips. "God knows I’m flying without a compass, Mac, but damn, it sure feels right. I just can't wait any longer."

Mac felt her knees weaken as she initiated a second kiss. She pulled away and smiled. "Well, at least we’re on the same flight plan, eh flyboy?" she teased.

He leaned in again to kiss her but was interrupted by a knock on the door. They both spluttered.

"The pizza guy," Mac said, still trying to get her breathing under control after their last kiss.

"Yeah. I guess we better get the door."

They shared the pizza and soda at her kitchen table and then settled in to watch the video. Mac cuddled up next to Harm, his arm around her shoulders. As they watched, he kept glancing surreptitiously at her to see how she was reacting. By the end of the 30 minutes of footage, Mac was crying softly.

"Hey, it’s ok. Shh. Don’t cry," Harm pleaded with her as she allowed him to envelop her in a hug.

"I don’t know why I’m crying," she mumbled into his shirt, sodden with her tears. She sniffed loudly and pulled away from him. The details had all come rushing back in one fell swoop as she watched the footage. The cold, the dark, the desperation. She took a deep breath, regrouping. "Did anybody get the people in the car or the bus driver?"

Harm looked away and hesitated. Then he looked back at her. "No," he answered quietly, "Even the fire department couldn’t get the bus driver or the teenagers out of the car until they pulled the vehicles out of the pond. Nobody could have saved them, Mac. Nobody."

She looked away. "I should have tried," she said, sadly.

"No. Listen to me, Mac. What you did was Herculean. You got 9 kids out of a freezing pond. All those people standing there, and only you and one other man were willing to lift a finger to help. What you did was amazing. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I guess. But, I did what I had to do, Harm, what I was trained to do. Nothing more, nothing less," she protested. Why was everybody so insistent that she had done something special? She had minor injuries and a touch of hypothermia. That was nothing compared to what would have happened to those kids if they had been left in the bus.

"I’d bet the parents of the kids from the bus would disagree with you. They want to meet you as soon as you get back to work. They want to thank you for what you did. They all sent cards and flowers to JAG, even the kids."

"That seems like an awful lot of fuss."

"Hey, look at me." Mac turned her head to face him.

"You deserve it, Mac. Really. Everyone at JAG is so proud of you. Me too." He broke into his most charming smile.

Mac felt her face heat up, and looked away, embarrassed by the praise. "So is there anything else on the tv tonight?" she asked brightly, hoping to change the subject.

"Pick something," Harm answered. "I’ll probably be asleep before it ends anyhow." He maneuvered himself and Mac on the couch so that he was stretched out full length with her lying basically on top of him. He gently kissed her hair and reached down to grasp her hand, effectively surrounding her in a protective cocoon.

This new level of their relationship sure felt great, but a little voice kept nagging her. "Um, Harm?"

"Umm hmm?" he answered drowsily.

"Don’t you have to go to work in the morning?"

"Nope. A’miral gave me the day off."

"He did?" she asked, astounded.

"Yup. He figured you would never ask for a ride to Bethesda for your check up, so he figured he’d jus’ order me to do it. Izzat ok?" he mumbled, drowsily.

"Yeah, fine," she answered, still a bit puzzled.

Mac played with the remote for a while, finally deciding on CSI Miami, and relaxed against Harm. Within a few minutes both had drifted to sleep, secure in the knowledge that two separate journeys begun in a rose garden would soon merge, uniting them forever.

Epilogue:

A week had passed since the rescue and Mac had been back at work for three days. Emotionally she was doing much better. She had made peace with the fact that she hadn’t saved everybody. She had talked to a couple of reporters whom she trusted and ignored the others. Physically, however, she was not quite up to par. She still couldn’t make it through the whole day without feeling tired or sore or both and this frustrated her. Harm kept telling her to give it time, but she was a Marine, dammit: she shouldn’t need a week to get warm and deal with a sprained ankle.

It was in this state of mind that Harm found her when he poked his head into her office.

"Hey, Mac, ready to go?" he asked cheerfully.

She sighed, "Yeah. I guess. I feel like I could sleep for a week and my ankle is killing me."

"When did you last take your meds?" he chided her, not unsympathetically.

"I hate taking stuff at work, Harm. I’ll take something at home after I get a nice long soak in the tub."

He waggled his eyebrows at her.

She smiled and limped around her desk until she was standing right in front of him. "You want to join me?" she whispered.

"You bet," he whispered back. "Let’s go."

As they headed toward the elevator Harm turned toward the conference room. "Oh, man, I forgot to put those files back on Turner’s desk. I have to do it before I leave. Why don’t you sit down in here while I put them away."

Puzzled, Mac reluctantly followed Harm into the room.

"Colonel MacKenzie, front and center!" the Admiral ordered.

Mac's breath caught as she looked around her. The conference room was full of people, her colleagues at JAG and a number of civilians, including several children in wheelchairs. She gasped in surprise but followed the admiral’s order, coming to attention directly in front of him.

"On February 13, 2003, while driving to work, Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie rescued 9 children from a freezing pond after a bus accident, without regard for her own safety. Her actions, in the highest tradition of the armed forces, reflect favorably on herself, the JAG Corps and the United States Marine Corps. We the undersigned salute her courage and proclaim her hero of the month. Congratulations, Colonel." He handed her the parchment amidst the applause of the audience.

"Um I don’t know what to say, Admiral. I had no idea. I was just doing my job," she protested, embarrassed by the attention.

"Nonsense, Colonel. What you did took personal strength and a level of intestinal fortitude that few people possess. I only wish there was a military honor we could bestow on you. But this will have to do." He turned to the crowd. "Tiner! Let’s eat!"

Mac turned to Harm as he moved toward her. "Did you know about this?"

"Of course. But it wasn’t our idea. It was theirs," he pointed to the group of parents and children standing to one side of the room.

Mac clomped toward the group, her heart overflowing. One woman stepped forward to greet her. "Colonel MacKenzie, I’m Brenda Loughlin. We wanted to thank you for what you did. Our kids have had pretty hard lives. After everything they’ve been through it would have been devastating for us to lose them that way. We can never thank you enough."

"Please," Mac pled softly, close to tears. "I’m so glad I was there and that I could help. Seeing all of them here today is enough thanks for me. I’m so glad everybody is all right."

She spent the next hour talking to the children and the parents, eating some food and talking with other JAG staffers. As the party was winding down, Harm finally got her to sit. Within a few seconds she had nearly dozed off.

"Hey, Mac. I think it’s time to go," Harm gently roused her. "Let’s get you home."

With last round of goodbyes and thank yous, Harm and Mac walked out of the conference room and into the waiting elevator.

"Hero of the month, huh?" Harm gently teased.

"Yeah," Mac replied softly.

"That’s nice."

"Yeah."

"You know you’ve always been my hero," Harm whispered.

"Oh, Harm," she whispered shakily, his tenderness on top of the party threatening to undo her completely.

He leaned in and kissed her tenderly.

They left the elevator and walked slowly to his car, hand in hand.