| Subject: Christmas Nigh; Adeste Fi! - Part 17/25 |
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Teacup
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Date Posted: 07:11:24 07/17/07 Tue
In reply to:
Teacup (aka Ever-Xmas)
's message, "Christmas Nigh; Adeste Fi!" on 23:51:19 06/30/07 Sat
Christmas Nigh; Adeste Fi!
A/N: This part's good and long. Well, it's longer than usual; ... whether it's good is your decision :0)
Previously:
“Okay, your turn,” Harm told Mac.
“No, I started last time,” she said. “I want to hear what you think a boy of yours would be like.”
Part 17
“A boy?”
“Yeah.”
Harm thought for just a second. “… He’d be a handsome little guy.”
“Of course.”
“… He’d have straight hair, thick and … really dark,” said Harm.
Mac commented, “And any kid of yours is likely going to sprout up pretty high, … so he’ll grow up to be tall, dark, and handsome.” Her eyebrows raised and she grinned as she pointed out, “… Dangerous combination. He’ll be a heartbreaker.”
“Probably,” Harm agreed with his own crooked smile.
“Your eyes?” Mac inquired.
“… No, he’d have softer eyes,” answered Harm. “… Big and … chocolate brown.”
Mac swallowed; … she had brown eyes, … and Harm was looking into them now. If hers really were chocolate, they’d be melting at the moment. “And Christmas morning?” she asked. “How do you envision that?”
“Hmm.” Harm looked away in thought. “… I’m seeing him as a pretty little guy. Too young to come wake us up, … his mother and I,” he explained. “… But old enough to toddle around a bit on his own. So I guess we’d carry him downstairs … and let him loose on the packages.”
“We would not!” Mac disagreed.
“We wouldn’t?”
Mac looked a little ashamed at showing her presumptive thinking, but decided she might as well go along with the hypothetical. “Well, … if I was the mother,” she said, “… I wouldn’t let him loose. … Do you know how much damage a little bundle of energy can cause within a matter of minutes? We want him to open presents, … not destroy them.”
“Okay. … It’s your turn anyhow,” Harm flipped things around. “If he’s your little terror, … what does he get for Christmas?”
“I wouldn’t call any child of mine a terror,” Mac objected.
“Alright, your darling bundle of energy, … what does he get?”
She momentarily considered it. “Well, he’s too young to really appreciate a trip to the zoo, … but I don’t think he’d be into that sort of thing too much anyhow.”
Harm was interested. “Oh, what would he be into?”
“Anything that gives him an adrenaline rush.” Mac thought for a second and then decided, “That’s what I’d get him, … a swing set for the backyard. I think he’d like to swing. … That feeling of flying high.”
“Can’t he do that at a park?” asked Harm.
“Sure,” answered Mac. “But I don’t think it would be good for him to go there all the time.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because he’s going to charm the socks off of every woman who comes walking by,” Mac explained, only partly tongue-in-cheek. “Not only would I have to be triply careful so that no one steals him away, but … I don’t think a frequent amount of attention from all kinds of strangers would be good for him at that young of an age.”
“What, you think he’d learn to take advantage of people?” Harm questioned.
“No. He’ll be a good boy. He’ll grow up wanting to do what’s right. … But, I don’t want him to think he can get whatever he wants from anyone based on his charm.” Mac smirked as she declared, “… And he ought to at least wait until he gets to the schoolyard before he starts breaking those hearts.”
“So you’re going to keep him secluded?”
“I didn’t say that,” corrected Mac. More seriously she said, “I just think he’s really going to like being on a swing, so for as often as he will want to do it, it’s best to have it right at home. … And is it so wrong for a mother to want to spend quality time playing with her son when he’s at an age to do it, without strangers drawing his attention away? To want him to enjoy family time with me … and his father?”
“… No. Quality time is good,” Harm reiterated, noting the way she had looked at him when she referred to the father.
Harm admired her so. “… I bet you’d be great with your son. He might be a tough little guy, but … he’d need you. He’d go to you … for comfort … and security.”
Mac got a warm feeling inside and found herself snuggling closer to Harm, cradling his arm that wasn’t around her shoulders, as she said, “I’d like to take him in my arms when he’s little and read him books. I think he’d like that, … especially adventure stories … and those tales where the hero outsmarts a challenger … like Br’er Rabbit does.”
“Why do you think he’d like Br’er Rabbit stories?”
“Because our son won’t be a dummy. … He’ll like the idea of using wits to get the upper hand every now and then.”
“Hmm.” Harm remembered something. “… I hope you learn some bedtime stories by the time he’s born, so that you can tell him some tales off the cuff when need be. … Maybe you should start reading up now,” he suggested.
“I know some stories,” Mac objected.
“Really?” Harm asked. “Did you just learn them recently? Or were you lying to me on the Watertown?”
“What?”
“You remember when we were stuck on the submarine.”
“How could I forget? … We both almost died courtesy of a sick, psycho killer.”
“Things weren’t too pleasant before that either …” Harm reminded her.
“No. … Our own little ‘cold war,’” acknowledged Mac.
“Yeah. … Well, maybe that was appropriate considering we were underneath solid ice the majority of the time.”
Mac remembered, “We went under the North Pole that trip.”
Harm chuckled, saying, “Well, if Santa was paying attention below sea level, I don’t think he was too happy with how we were acting.”
“No. … But, you did save my life,” said Mac. “I think that made up for your earlier behavior.”
“And you saved mine,” he said.
But it wasn’t the threat to his life that terrified Harm; it was remembering how, for a few moments on that submarine, Mac had been essentially dead.
“You have no idea how scared I was when you weren’t breathing,” he admitted with an uncharacteristic show of emotion.
“I might,” she disagreed. There was that night his plane went down, not to mention a dozen other times when she really feared for his life. Remembering how this topic came up, she asked, “What does this have to do with my knowledge of children’s stories?”
“Oh, …” Harm got back to his point. “On the sub, I was brainstorming one night and wanted to run my ideas by you. … I told you I couldn’t sleep. … You snapped at me, saying you didn’t know any bedtime stories.”
“You remember that?” asked Mac with disbelief. “… I didn’t think you even heard half of what I said that trip.”
“So, were you lying to me?”
Mac admitted, “It was just a comment to get you to leave me alone.”
“You wouldn’t have told me a story?”
“I was pretty frustrated with you at the time.” She had really believed that he had no faith in her at all. They just didn’t seem to be able to see eye to eye.
“You’re not upset with me now, are you?” checked Harm.
“Of course not.”
“So, would you tell me a story tonight, if I asked?”
“… I don’t know ….” Something about this whole scenario of being cuddled up with Harm was overwhelming to her, and she was having a hard time recalling things on demand. “…I can’t think of anything right now,” she admitted.
“That’s okay,” he said. “I was liking the one you were telling about our son. … Well, your son. So, you’d get him a swing set. Anything else? What about things he asked for?”
“Harm, toddlers don’t have the ability to process that kind of thing. They want everything they see … for about five minutes. Then it’s forgotten.”
“I guess that’s true.”
“What would such a small child ask for anyway?” Mac pointed out. “At that age, the whole world already seems like his ‘toy land’ and everything in it for playing with.”
“One of the drawbacks to getting older, … we tend to overlook the joys in simple things,” commented Harm. “The ability to see the world as our toy land.”
Mac thought about that, and it reminded her of an interaction with her godson. “Little AJ once asked me how come big people don’t play with toys.”
“What did you say?”
“That we still like to play when we have a child to play with. … Then he asked how come we needed a kid in order to play.”
“’Cause we’d look stupid otherwise?” suggested Harm.
“I told him we need children to play with because of the good imaginations they have when they’re little … and their willingness to believe in almost anything. We lose some of that when we grow up.”
Mac took on a sentimental smile as she continued recounting, “… He looked at me and very seriously offered to come over to my place … to help me look for my ‘maj-nation,’ … the part I lost when I got big.”
Harm chuckled. “Out of the mouths of babes. … Makes you wish the world was still your toy land, doesn’t it?” he asked wistfully.
“Oh, come on,” Mac didn’t buy his self pity. “You still play with toys,” she insisted. At Harm’s confused expression, she explained, “You know what they say. … Men don’t grow up. … Their toys just get more expensive. For you, … somewhere in the millions of dollars worth.”
“Ah,” acknowledged Harm in understanding she was referring to the jet fighters he loved so much. “I guess.” He wanted to follow up more about ‘their son.’
“… So, if our boy wouldn’t need to ask for any toys, what could he desire?”
“I don’t know. … Since we’re going to provide everything we can to fulfill his basic needs, there’s not much he would really be in want of.” She thought some more. “… Everything he gets his hands on, he’ll want to put in his mouth. … He could probably use his teeth grown in.”
“Teeth?”
“Yeah, … I can just see him struggling with a raw carrot that his father tries to give him to eat.”
“You don’t think he’ll like vegetables?”
“I think he might like them. He just wouldn’t be able to chew it very well if you don’t prepare it for him. … He’d need those front teeth to bite a piece off.”
Harm grinned, ready to make a joke. “So, he’d say, ‘All I want for Christmas are my two front teeth?’”
Mac laughed. “No, silly. I already told you, toddlers want everything they see. … He can’t see teeth that haven’t grown in yet. He won’t know he’s missing them.”
“You have a pretty good handle on the thought process of kids, Mac. That’s pretty impressive for an only child with no kids of her own yet.”
“Well, I do have some experience with the mindset of kids. … Little AJ, Chloe, … you.”
“Hey! I can be mature,” Harm argued.
Mac continued to tease him. “You can also be juvenile.”
“Be nice, or I’m going to take your rock back.” He grabbed the gift with his free hand and held it in the air away from her.
“It’s not a rock, it’s a fossil,” Mac corrected, as he had earlier. “… And is this you not being juvenile?”
Harm made a face and then handed the object back. Becoming serious, he said, “I am growing up, Mac.”
“I’m glad.”
By this time, both Harm and Mac were no longer cold. On the contrary, being this intimately close to each other had them quite warm. They had let the blanket slide down, so it only covered their legs. Harm had loosened his hold on Mac a bit too, but definitely did not break the contact. She was still right there leaning against him.
“You think you could handle a baby in your life?” Mac asked Harm.
“… I’d like to think so,” he answered. He was suddenly struck with a notion and, without considering what came out of his mouth next, he muttered, “… There may be a baby in my life soon.”
Mac was confused. “What do you mean?”
“Uh, …” Harm became alarmed at what he had said. He had been meaning to keep that theory to himself. But he didn’t want to lie to Mac, and he didn’t like keeping things from her. “… Just that someone I know is pregnant.”
“… Other than Harriet?” Mac asked, sensing that Harm wasn’t talking about their good friend. Harm hadn’t even known Harriet was pregnant until just now.
Harm tried to smile. “Yeah, … Harriet’s got all kinds of support. This other person … will need encouragement, I think.” Harm lifted his arm off of Mac, feeling that he had to put some distance between them for some reason. This was just uncomfortable.
Mac had thought that she and Harm had a pretty close relationship, … that she knew most of what was going on in his life. So who else did he know that was pregnant? And why would the baby be in his life? The fact that Harm was physically pulling away from her didn’t help Mac feel any better about this.
“Have you been spending time with someone I don’t know about?” she asked, trying not to sound hurt.
“No,” Harm assured her.
“Then how do you know someone else who’s pregnant?”
“… Work.”
Mac furrowed her eyebrows, not following. “The only other person from work who is pregnant is …” And it hit Mac like a sack of coal. “… Singer.”
Mac was flooded with the memory of Harm’s cagey behavior during her investigation regarding the father of Singer’s baby. He had definitely been hiding something. Mac was now quickly falling into a state of shock, plummeting farther by Harm’s next words.
Staring at the carpet, he quietly admitted, “I think … I might know who the father of her baby is.” Harm hung his head in shame.
Mac couldn’t believe it, … wouldn’t believe it. But he did say ‘baby is his life soon.’ And he was acting guilty.
“This is some sort of sick joke, right?” she exclaimed.
Harm’s head snapped up. He hadn’t expected Mac to act so harshly. He hadn’t even told her who he thought the father was yet.
“… Tell me Singer isn’t pregnant with your baby,” Mac insisted, desperate to hear otherwise.
How could she maintain the respect she had for Harm if he had … done that … with Singer? … Mac knew she was certainly in no position to cast stones, but … there were so many things wrong with Harm taking Loren to bed, especially at this point in his life. It just didn’t make sense given what Mac knew about Harm, and she knew him well.
Harm was shocked at Mac’s statement. “My baby? Who said that?” he asked in bewilderment. Was someone starting nasty rumors?
Mac’s horror was replaced with total confusion. “You said …”
Harm suddenly realized that, from what he had bumbled out, it would have sounded like he thought he was the father. He had to quickly put a stop to that.
“No, Mac! Not me.” His eyes were wide with panic and insistence.
“Then why …?”
“Sergei,” he answered.
There was a lengthy period of silence while Mac digested that. Finally, she confirmed her understanding, and replied with deep relief, “Your brother.”
Harm nodded, looking away. “I think they … had a thing … before she went out to the carrier.”
Mac abruptly began laughing at the absurdity of that coupling, but mostly her giggles were out of relief. Her tension needed to release itself.
“This is not funny,” Harm insisted.
Mac was still laughing as she said, “I know.” She couldn’t help it.
Harm was not amused. Not by his brother. Not by Singer’s apparent attitude toward the baby. And certainly not by the fact that Mac could have believed that he would have bedded Loren Singer!
“Did you really think I could have slept with her?” he couldn’t help but ask.
“No,” Mac answered, quickly sobering. “I couldn’t, … which was why I was having such a hard time with …” She started again, “But the way you were …”
“Come on, Mac. Me and Singer?” he posed the idea as insane. “… Only in some very bizarre alternate universe where she and I both had completely different personalities than we do in this world, … would she and I ever hook up and have children together.”
“I know,” said Mac. “That’s why I didn’t understand.” Switching to the real topic, she brought up, “So, … your brother?”
Harm groaned. “I don’t want to talk about it tonight.”
“Okay.” Mac wasn’t going to push. “… You could have told me this before, you know?”
“You were leading the investigation,” Harm pointed out. “And I wasn’t a hundred percent sure of anything.”
Mac nodded, somewhat understanding the complications caused by her official duty at the time.
“I’m still not, I guess,” added Harm, admitting that although he had good reason to believe his brother was the baby’s father, he didn’t have any admissions or any solid proof.
Mac could see that Harm was agitated over this subject. Gently she told him, “It’s okay, … we don’t have to discuss it now. … But thank you for telling me.”
Just as she had done in the car earlier that night after Harm’s recollection of his painful childhood memory, she reached out to touch Harm and offer what comfort and support she could. He gladly accepted her hand in his.
-----
TBC ...
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A/N: You are lucky; I’ve decided to divide this up so that this part ends before the potential cliffhanger just around the corner.
~Teacup
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