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Date Posted: 11:01:33 11/13/13 Wed
Author: keru
Subject: Awakening 3 (Part 1)

Disclaimer:
A/N: Guys. We may have more than four chapters in this story. I'm going to stop trying to project a final number.

--


“Volleyball team tryouts are on Friday. Liz is going to try out and she said maybe I could, too. Do you think I should?”

Mac opened her mouth to answer, but Jules plowed through.

“Oh, and Lucy’s my lab partner in bio! She asked Mr. Jenkins if she could be my partner. No one wanted to be my partner at my old school. And we’re going to dissect a real frog! Cool, right? My old school didn’t let the older kids dissect their own frogs, they had to watch the teacher do it. I guess there weren’t enough frogs to go around? Did you ever dissect a frog?”

To Mac’s surprise, Jules actually stopped talking and looked to her for an answer. It was the first time since she’d picked Jules up that the girl had actually given her an opportunity to get a word in edgewise. She’d clearly had an eventful and exciting first day of high school.

“Nope,” Mac said. “I did dissect a rat in high school, though.” She and Eddie had scooped up as many of the innards as they could during the dissection, wrapped them in layers of paper towels, and put them on top of Brock Campbell’s locker. Righteous retribution for throwing Eddie’s gym clothes in the boys’ changing room toilets. It had taken the school a week to locate the source of the god-awful smell emanating from the jock’s locker, and even then his corner of the hallway stunk for weeks to come. Brock took to spraying cologne to mask it. Cologne by the gallon. The memory still made Mac grin.

“That is so cool!” Jules exclaimed. “Maybe we’ll get a rat next semester.”

“Maybe you will. If not, the science museum sometimes has cow eyes available for dissection. We could check it out.” She glanced over at Jules. “It’s no rat, but...”

“Wow,” Jules looked at her in awe. “That would so awesome.”

“Do you have any homework?”

The girl’s mood immediately dipped. “Yeah.” She sighed. “English and math and biology. We’re reading To Kill a Mockingbird in English. Have you read it?”

“I have. I really enjoyed it.” Mac paused, realizing for the first time just how many of the little things she didn’t know about Jules. “Do you like reading?”

Jules nodded enthusiastically. “I love reading. Mom used to take me to the library every week before...” she trailed off. She shrugged. “Well, before.”

“We can get you a library card, if you like?” Mac suggested. “There’s a library a few blocks from our place. Walking distance.”

“Really? That close?”

“I haven’t given you a proper tour of the neighbourhood, have !?” Mac had taken Jules all around the city, to museums and memorials and any point of interest she could think of. She hadn’t, however, thought of exploring her own neighbourhood with the kid. “How about we take a walk after dinner, once you’re done with your homework.”

“Pizza for dinner?” Jules asked hopefully.

Mac grinned. “Nice try. How about pizza on Friday? I was thinking of trying to make meatloaf tonight.”

“Have you made meatloaf before?”

“Never before.”

“You didn’t cook much before I came along, did you?”

“Rarely turned on the oven,” Mac said easily. “You’re the lucky person who gets to sample all my kitchen experimentation.”

Jules, to her credit, tried not to look too chagrined.

“Now you know what that frog feels like, kid,” Mac teased.

Jules laughed. “As long as you don’t feed me frog.”

“Keep making fun of my cooking and I just might.”

---

The next morning, after dropping Jules off at school, Mac made a quick stop at the Roberts’ house and updated Harriet on her situation.

“She was living in a basement?” Harriet asked, aghast. “That poor thing. And her father! Oh, dear.”

Mac waited for Harriet to process.

“And you’re her guardian?”

“At least until her father is located.”

“And then?”

Mac shrugged. She still didn’t know the answer to that question. She didn’t want to think about an answer. Jules’ chatter filled her kitchen and her apartment and other long darkened, empty parts of her life.

“You’re doing the right thing, Mac.”

“I think you may be the first person to tell me that,” Mac replied.

Harriet let out a surprised laugh. “The Admiral?”

“I think he’s given up on me,” Mac said, only half-joking. She grinned despite herself. What a situation she’d thrown herself into. “But I won’t be travelling anywhere on assignment for the next little while.”

“And after that?”

Again, Mac shrugged.

“If there’s any way Bud and I can help, we’re more than happy to,” she offered.

“Thank you, Harriet.”

“How about you and Jules come over for dinner on Saturday night? AJ would love to meet his godmother’s ward.”

“Harriet, I couldn’t possibly impose. You have a lot going on--”

“I insist, Mac,” Harriet leaned forward eagerly. “You and I, we haven’t spoken, really spoken in so long. Frankly,” Harriett shrugged, self-deprecating and wry, “I need real company, anything other than tiny children and my husband. As much as I love them.”

Mac grinned. “Far be it from to deprive you. Dinner on Saturday it is.”

---

Mac sat at the conference room table, across from Harm. It had been two days now of working together without actually working together. Sharing a room in silence. She hadn’t been brave enough to attempt a real conversation.

This second day was nearing a close, but not soon enough for Mac. Her coffee cold and the silence suddenly too oppressive, she stood up to freshen her cup and stretch her legs. Her eyes flicked to Harm, who was bent in concentration, reading a file. She studied the profile of his face, the strong curve of his cheek and the clean-shaven line of his jaw. He looked up suddenly, and caught her stare.

Mac cleared her throat. She looked away quickly, but then forced herself to meet his eye.

“I’m going to get some more coffee,” she said. Her voice sounded too loud and sharp in the echoing silence of the room. “Can I get you anything?”

He looked at her for a barely a second, before turning his attention back to the file in front of him.

Mac bit back a sigh and went to the break room to get more coffee. She couldn’t decide if she was angry, fed up, or frustrated with him. A conversation, she thought. Clearing the air. That’s what they needed to do. Would he really punish her like this forever?

She filled two cups with coffee, put sugar and milk in Harm’s just the way he used to like it. Armed with what was either a peace offering or a challenge--Mac wasn’t sure what point she was trying to make with the coffee--she returned to the conference room.

In silence, she put his cup down in front of him and then made a concerted effort not to look at him. Instead, she went back to work.

An hour later, he inner clock told her it was time to call it a day. She cleaned up her workspace, and stood up ready to leave. That was when she realized that Harm was observing her. She couldn’t read his expression, but the intensity in his eyes was unmistakable.

She got caught up in his gaze, and he didn’t look away. Mac felt herself flush under his scrutiny.

Maybe this was their opening, she thought. She searched for her courage, hoping to initiate the conversation they so clearly needed to have, when she noticed that his cup of coffee lay exactly where she had put it an hour ago. Untouched.

The sudden sense of purpose that had filled her a moment ago fled just as quickly, deflating her.

She left without saying goodbye.

---

That Friday, Mac set next to Jules in a darkened cinema hall. The two of them were armed with popcorn and candy and soda. Jules was as happy as a clam. They were watching a computer animated film that had been breaking all kinds of box office records.

Mac supposed it was a good movie, but she’d been unable to pay attention to the screen.

She could not stop thinking about her week at work, sitting across from an obstinately silent Harm. The silence, she could get used to, she supposed. What really threw her off was that, as the days had passed, she’d increasingly caught Harm staring at her. Whenever she’d looked up and caught him at it, he’d looked away. She didn’t know what to make of it, but she did know that she didn’t want to give his behaviour too much thought.

Her solution had been to just start pretending she didn’t notice every time he fixed his gaze on her.

So much for hardening her useless heart, Mac thought. So much for that.

She turned to watch Jules, the play of light over her face. Jules smiled and laughed and cringed and just genuinely immersed herself wholeheartedly in the delight of being entertained. Mac found herself grinning. It was rare to catch Jules this unguarded. She banished away thoughts of Harm and all the complicatedness he brought with him. The simple pleasures of a good movie and the promise of pizza for dinner deserved her full attention, and she readily gave it.

---

They fell into a smooth schedule over the next two weeks, she and Jules. Jules got her library card, and Mac often caught her reading a borrowed book when she should have been doing her math homework. On the weekend, Mac would take Jules to various sites in DC, places the girls had not seen outside of school trips or books. On weekdays, they’d have breakfast together, and Mac would pack Jules lunch while the kid finished off whichever homework assignment she’d invariably forgotten she was supposed to do the night before. When Jules had volleyball practice, Mac would drop her off to school on the way to work. Morning without practice, Mac would head to work and Jules would walk herself to school when the time came. Some days, when she didn’t have too much homework, Mac and Jules would go to the Roberts’, and take a very smitten little AJ to the park to play. Sometimes, Harriet came with them, pushing Jimmy along in his stroller.

“Any word on her father?” she asked Mac on one such afternoon.

“None,” she replied. “The detectives have put out a BOLO in neighbouring states. The M.E. is looking at autopsies for John Does outside the DC police districts, too. So far, nothing.”

“Maybe he really took advantage of that five month head start.”

“Maybe.”

“I can’t imagine a parent abandoning their child. And she’s such a sweet girl.”

Mac didn’t say anything. What could she say to that.

“How is Juliette handling everything?”

“She won’t talk about it. I don’t think she believes me when I say I’m in this for the long haul. She’s not about to open up to another adult she thinks she’ll lose.”

“And her friends at school?”

“They don’t have a clue.” Mac sighed. “I think she’s letting them believe I’m her mom. She goes to their homes to hang out, but she won’t invite them over to our place. It’s only been a month, though...” she trailed off. She hoped for so much for the young girl, but she knew the road would not be an easy one.

Harriett adjusted Jimmy in his stroller as he babbled contentedly. Mac watched the play of emotion over the younger woman’s face. The empathy and the hurt for the teenaged girl who was currently happily playing hide-and-seek with little AJ.

“Your help, yours and Bud’s, has been invaluable, Harriet,” she told her friend.

“I wish we could do more for her.”

“Me, too,” Mac said. “But this is a road she has to walk herself. Letting her babysit AJ has gone a long way to improving her self-esteem.”

“She’s blossoming, isn’t she?” Harriet agreed.

“She is,” Mac acknowledged. And yet. “I’m waiting for the meltdown, for it to all come bubbling to the surface. She’s handling this all far too well.”

They both watched Jules as she pretended to search for the little boy who was very obviously hiding inside the tubular slide.

“How are you doing, Mac?”

She looked at Harriet, startled by the question. No one had asked her that in a very, very long time.

She thought of Harm, his frigid silence as he sat across from her in the conference room. No words, no acknowledgment. She’d brought him a fresh cup of coffee a few more times over the past two weeks, when she’d gone to top up her own cup. He hadn’t touched any of them. And yet he kept watching her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. She thought of the silence she was getting from Clay. She hadn’t reached out to him, not once, and hadn’t even wanted to. His was a welcome silence, but one that made her feel just a little guilty.

She still woke up some nights in a cold sweat, images of martyred missionaries and firebrand terrorists looming large in the shadows of her bedroom. The sounds of Clay’s screams, and Harm’s silence kept her from going back to sleep.

Jules’ laughter carried over the cool fall winds, and Mac turned to watch the girl chase AJ around the slide.

“Better than I have been in a while,” she finally replied.

It wasn’t saying much, but it was more than she’d imagined herself capable of.

---

The following Monday, she and Harm were down to their last stack of case files under review. The last day of sitting across from him, in a stony silence.

It was better that this misery be over, she told herself.

Still, it felt like another ending, another missed opportunity. Saying goodbye once again, without saying anything at all.

How much more could she say to him? Not much, she convinced herself. She’d left so many unanswered messages on his machine, back when he worked for the CIA. And now, the sound of her voice alone, her presence seemed to set him on edge. He needed space, still, and time. Maybe one day-

“Ma’am?” Coates popped her head into the conference room. “There’s a phone call for you. It’s urgent.”.

Mac stood immediately, Jules firmly at the forefront of her thoughts. Maybe it wasn’t about her. Before she could ask, Coates said, “It’s from Detective Jameson.”

Her breaths were suddenly hard to come by. The loud, painful thumps in her chest reverberated in her skull.

“I transferred the call through to the phone, Ma’am,” Coates indicated the telephone receiver in the corner of the room.

Mac walked over to the receiver slowly, each step measured, delaying the news she would have to hear. Her hands shook as she pressed the button to connect the line. She remembered walking into that too-hot, rundown convenience store and finding it empty, no sign of the girl.

“Colonel MacKenzie,” she said, surprised at how even her voice sounded. Clear and solid, even as she felt the floor beneath her shift and tremble.

“Colonel, this is Detective Jameson.” There was the slightest of pauses. “We found him.”

---

“Mac?”

We found his body.

She looked from the receiver in her hand to Harm.

In Indiana. He had no wallet, no ID. We think it was a mugging.

“Are you okay?” He looked from her to the receiver, which was beeping to indicate a disconnected line. Det. Jameson had hung up already. 18 seconds ago. She put the phone down.

David Spencer had been working at a steel factory in a small town. He had regular hours and a steady paycheque. Rented a bedroom. Spent most of his time at the local bar after work.

“You should sit down,” he said, reaching for her arm.

I’m sorry, Colonel. It looks like he left his daughter, and he had no plans of going back.

“No,” she said. Her voice shook. “No,” she said again, more strongly. She forced herself to look at Harm. “I’m fine.”

“Is…” he hesitated. His hand dropped to his side. There was regret in his eyes. Concern. Sadness. She could see it now. He’d hidden it so well behind the wall of anger. “Is it Webb?”

“Who?” she said dumbly, for a moment completely lost.

“Is Webb okay?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she said. She gestured aimlessly towards the phone. “That wasn’t about Clay.”

She needed to tell Jules the news.

“Maybe you should sit down, Mac. You look like you just got some really bad news.”

She looked up to see the concern in Harm’s gaze. His eyes and his voice were soft and kind and too much.

“You can stop,” she told him, suddenly upset. She was furious with David Spencer for abandoning his daughter, incensed with Harm for being nice after three weeks of being cold and sometimes mean; for talking to her with such care after months of ignoring her.

He was taken aback.

“Stop what?”

“Dammit, Harm.” She took a deep breath to try and level her mounting fury. Harm was available; Spencer was her real target. Spencer and the unfairness of the world. She took another deep breath, and this one seemed to help calm her down a little: “Stop being so nice. Stop feeling bad for me.”

“Mac--”

“You don’t need to pretend to care,” she said, suddenly tired. She sat down on the nearest chair. The fight in her left as swiftly as it came. “I’m fine. Just stop.”

“Mac,” he said, sounding helpless and frustrated. Mostly frustrated. “I’m not pretending. I’ve never pretended.”

“I left messages on your machine.” She felt detached from her words, an observer watching someone else throw stones at the man in front of her. “Seventeen of them.” Accusation was clear in her voice.

His expression hardened.

“I was busy.” The anger in him was back, could feel it in the sharp slice of his words, in the careless shrug of his shoulder. “You know how it is.,” he said. “Work. Life.”

So cavalier, she thought. She remembered this part of him from the taxi stand down in Paraguay.

“Yeah,” she replied. “I guess I do.”

“You told me ‘never’,” he continued, challenge in his eyes. “I took you at your word.”

Defeat wove itself into her bones. She knew now, she thought, where she stood with him. In plain English.

Her thoughts went to Juliette. It wasn’t even noon, yet. The kid was dissecting her much-anticipated frog in biology today. She would tell Juliette after school, Mac decided. No point in disrupting her day. Jules was going to have a tough few weeks ahead of her. A tough few months.

“We should get back to work,” Harm said, cutting into her thoughts. He hesitated. “If you need to head out,” he said it reluctantly, “I can cover for you.”

It was a generous offer, an unexpected one. It caught her off guard.

“I’m sorry,” she said, ashamed, “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“Just now,” he inquired, “or a few months back?”

She startled, unsure if he was serious or if he was kidding.

“I’m sorry, too,” he said after a long, painful pause. His eyes fixed on hers. He sighed. “About a lot of things.”

“You were angry,” she offered. She remembered the sounds of Clay’s screams, of two gunshots ringing out in the stuffy, too-humid jungle air, of the car battery charging in that shed. Harm breaking in through the door. She thought of the words she would never hear him say. “I understand.”

He was watching, silent, enigmatic.

“What?” she asked.

He tilted his chin towards the phone. “Do you need to head out?”

She shook her head. He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push.

Mac moved back to her own chair, and tried to focus on the file in front of her. Last stack, she reminded herself, but she couldn’t concentrate. She fiddled with her pen, tapped her fingers against her chin.

“It’s about my ward,” she found herself saying.

Harm looked up from his file, confusion etched on his brow.

“Your...ward?” he repeated.

“Jules,” she said. “Juliette. She’s fourteen. I have temporary custody.” Even as she said it, her resolve took shape and hardened. She would apply for full custody. Tooth and nail, she’d fight to get it done. Whatever it took. She’d have to figure out a way to balance out-of-town assignments with Jules’ needs and with her own responsibility for the girl.

He closed the file he was reading, and capped his pen. He gave her his full attention. She studied his face, looking for any sign of judgment, of censure or criticism. She found, instead, curiosity and concern. Some confusion.

The story spilled out of her. The convenience store and its stoic clerk. Subsidizing groceries and sharing donuts. Following the girl to a dark basement and having cheeseburgers at a diner. The sick mother and the missing, abusive father. The new school and volleyball games where Mac sat on hard bleachers and cheered as Jules hit a perfect serve. Trips to the museum and playing at the park with AJ. Struggling to feed the kid.

“She hates my cooking,” Mac said. “Can’t say I blame her,” she continued. “I’m not a huge fan of it, either.”

Harm smiled. “Your microwave must feel quite neglected.”

She found herself smiling, too. “The first time we went grocery shopping and I tried to figure out how exactly I was supposed to know which bunch of broccoli was ripe enough to eat, I kept thinking that I should have gotten your lasagne recipe while I had the chance.”

He was still grinning, but something in his eyes turned serious. “You never lost the chance, Mac.”

She studied him. She didn’t believe that she hadn’t ever lost the chance--the silence that had laid siege to the conference room for three weeks was too fresh in her memory--but she thought maybe they could rebuild something between them. Find that chance again.

He cleared his throat. He looked away and the moment broke apart, slipped away from them.

“I’d like to meet her,” he looked at her again and then away. Doubting, perhaps, that she would agree. “I could make us a nutritious dinner, if you want…” he trailed off uncertainly.

“I can’t promise you’ll win her over with a healthy dinner,” she said, smiling at him.

“I remember a certain Marine who quite enjoyed my homemade dinners,” he teased.

Mac felt her face heat up.

“The phone call; it was about her?” he asked.

“The police found her father.”

“Is he…?” he trailed off, watching her expectantly.

“No,” she shook her head. “They found his body in Indiana.”

His face fell, and they shared in Juliette’s pain.

“So he did leave her.”

“All alone,” she said. She didn’t how she’d break the news to Jules. They’d gotten so far in the last month, she and the girl.

He took her hand in his. It was such a strange thing to feel his touch after so much absence. His warm, calloused palm. The long fingers. The way his eyes looked into hers. She felt her pulse pick up, felt the jolt, the spark. From struggling to feel any connection, any emotion, her system was now in overdrive. She was making up for lost time, it seemed, between the girl who’d slowly, steadily, unexpectedly built a home in her heart, and the man who’d had a home there for years.

“What can I do?” he asked.

“You’re doing it,” she answered.

----

Juliette had been watching her anxiously throughout dinner. Mac had been preoccupied and anxious, so it was no surprise that the teen had picked up on her mood. It was time, Mac thought, to take the bull by the horns.

“Hey,” she said to Jules, the remnants of their meal scattered about the table. “Let’s leave the dishes for later.”

“Okay, now I know something’s wrong,” Jules tried to joke, but it fell flat. She looked so nervous and afraid.

Mac took her by the hand and led her to the couch.

“Jules,” she began.

“It’s about my dad, isn’t it?” she cut in, her voice shaking.

“Detective Jameson called today,” Mac said, watching the girl, trying to convey comfort and support.

“They found him?”

“The Indiana State Police found him. I’m sorry, honey, he was in a mugging that turned violent. He didn’t make it.”

Jules’ eyes widened. She opened her mouth, and then closed it. She sniffed. One tear escaped, and then another and then it was a silent, steady stream. Mac wrapped her arms around the girl, and held her for a good long while.

Jules’ tears stemmed, little by little. “I guess I have to go now?” she said in a tiny voice.

Mac looked to at the girl. “What? Jules, no. You don’t have to go anywhere.”

Jules shifted out of Mac’s hug. “You said that I could stay with you until they found my dad…” she trailed off, insecurity colouring every uncertain inflection.

“Sweetheart.” Mac took the girl’s hands in her own. “I spoke with Child Services about the possibility of petitioning the court for permanent guardianship over you.”

Jules’ eyes widened in disbelief. “Really?”

Mac nodded.

“You,” she hesitated, tasted the words in her mouth before she said them aloud. “You want me? To stay?”

“I do,” Mac said. She couldn’t stop her smile. “I like having you around, Jules. You being a lot of joy into my life. Even if you rag my cooking.”

Jules smiled, a soft, tentative thing. “So I can stay?”.

“Child Services will support my petition. But,” Mac qualified, at the sudden hope that bloomed on Jules’ face, “it’s up to the courts. I can promise you, though, that I will do everything I can do make sure that whatever happens, it’s the best for you.”

“Oh,” Jules said. She searched Mac’s face, “if I tell the court I like it here, with you, then would they let me?”

“It might be a bit more complicated than that,” Mac answered. She’d thought, frankly, that Jules would have more questions about her father. But her eyes were dry and her father was safely locked away somewhere deep and impregnable, for now. “The judge’s job is to make sure that your interests are met in the best possible way, so we’ll build a case to convince him of that. What you want, your statement, can be a part of that case if you like.”

“So, this is what you do at work, right? As a lawyer.”

“It can be,” Mac agreed, not willing to cause Jules any more anxiety or go into the details of military versus civilian law.

“So we can win?” she sat up eagerly.

“Listen, Jules,” Mac tucked a lock of hair behind Jules’ ear, she cupped her face. “Whatever happens, tomorrow or next week; a month from now or a year; whether the court accepts my petition or not, I am a part of your life. I’m not letting you go, okay?”

Jules looked away.

“Hey,” Mac tilted Jules’ chin up, so the girl had to look at her. “I promise you,” she said, looking Jules in the eye. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you, kid. Nothing will change that.”

Tears welled in Jules’ eyes. Her ears reddened, the blush spreading down her neck. Again, she looked away. She didn’t believe Mac, but Mac was in it for the long haul. They’d work on building that trust.

---

A knock on her office door roused Mac from the Chief of Staff paperwork she was finally getting a chance to catch up on.

“Hey,” Harm said.

“Hey,” she replied, surprised to see him leaning through her doorway. It was an unusual sight, due to his long absence. He stepped into her office and placed a cup of coffee on her desk. “No milk, one sugar, if I recall,” he said.

A smile snuck up on her, unbidden. She cradled the warm cup in her hands.

“Thank you,” she told him.

“How’d Jules take the news?” he took a seat on one of the chairs in front of her desk.

Mac sighed. Jules was at volleyball practice, a half an hour away. She’d been her usual self this morning, had insisted on going to school, had refused Mac’s offer to take a day off. Once she’d finished her cry last night, Jules hadn’t mentioned her dad again. Actually, she hadn’t mentioned him at all once Mac had broken the news. The kid was incredibly good at compartmentalizing her emotions away. A learned coping mechanism, Mac figured. It was eerily similar to Mac’s own. Mac had resolved to watch for mood changes, for flagging attention at school. She had notified Jules teachers to keep an eye out, as well.

“She plays it close to the vest,” Mac finally said.

“Reminds me of someone I know,” Harm observed thoughtfully, studying her as if with new eyes.

She arched an eyebrow. “I could say the same of you,” she said.

He put his hands up defensively. “It wasn’t an accusation, Mac. I can understand why she does it.” And why you do it too, the thought went unsaid.

Maybe, Mac considered, that’s what had drawn her to Jules. A deep yearning to break the cycle, to give the kid a chance before her defensive mechanisms grew roots and became permanent bad habits, before she dismissed the possibility of good in the world and in other people.

“Yeah,” Mac agreed quietly. “I can understand why she does it, too.”

“So,” he said. “What’s your game plan?”

“I’m applying for full custody,” she said. “I have an appointment with a lawyer over lunch.”

“Does the Admiral know?”

“He’s onboard,” Mac said. Harm’s eyes widened in surprise, and Mac could empathize. She’d expected the crusty Seal to balk at the news, too. Instead, he told her he could limit her travel while she figured out arrangements.

“Mac,” he said. “If there’s anything I can do to help, just name it.” At her surprised expression, he continued, “I know things between us have been … strained.”

He continually surprised her, she thought. Or maybe she underestimated him; forgot that underneath it all, he had a warm heart.

“Thanks, Harm,” she said. “Really.”

She waited for him to leave, but he remained in his seat. He fidgeted self-consciously.

“Maybe I can make you two that dinner I promised,” he suggested after a moment..

Mac hesitated.

Harm was quick to react. He stood up and moved to leave. “It’s fine, Mac.” Disappointment, embarrassment, a bit of anger, could all be heard. “I’ll let you be.”

“Harm,” she said. “Wait.”

He halted.

“I’m not sure how Jules will handle having a man around,” she told him honestly. Jules had even made sure so far to never be alone with Bud, who was just about the kindest, most harmless man Mac knew. At Harm’s crestfallen, worried expression, Mac couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t worry so much, Harm,” she said. “It will be good for her, I think, to get to know you. You can work your charm on her,” Mac teased.

“Challenge accepted,” he said, his relief clear to see.

---

“Harm?” Jules said, openly suspicious. “He works with you? How come I haven’t met him yet? Is that his real name?” She stood at the sink, washing their breakfast dishes with arms submerged up to her elbows in soapy water.

Mac laid the table. Three place settings.

“He worked at JAG before I even got there,” Mac answered. “He couldn’t make it to Jimmy’s baby shower, so you haven’t had the chance to meet him. His full name is Harmon, but he goes by Harm.”

“I guess Harm does sound better than Harmon.”

“I guess you’re right,” Mac agreed.

“He’s your friend?”

It was a loaded question. A complicated one.

“Yes,” Mac settled for the honest, cliff-notes version. “He’s a very good friend.”

Jules stopped washing and studied Mac.

“What is it?” Mac asked.

Jules quickly shook her head. She went back to the dishes.

“Hey,” Mac started, but was interrupted by a jaunty knock at the door. “That must be Harm,” Mac said. “He’s actually on time,” she added with wonder.

Instead of going to the door, she slid a hand through Jules’ hair.

“Are you okay?”

Jules nodded.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Jules shrugged. “Talk about what?”

Another knock at the door. Mac bit back a sigh.

“Jules,” she said, and waited until the girl made eye contact with her. “I love you, kid. That’s always going to be true. You can tell me anything, okay?”

The girl looked away.

Mac drew Jules into a quick hug and dropped a kiss on her head. “I’m going to answer the door. Come meet Harm when you’re done in here, okay?”

“Okay,” she mumbled.

Mac left the kitchen and opened her front door to a grinning sailor.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi,” she replied. She felt an unfamiliar sort of lightness in seeing him again in her doorway after so much time. She heard the shuffling of shy feet behind her.

Mac turned to look at her ward, standing awkwardly in the living room. She held out her arm, and Jules trudged over.

“Jules, this is Harm.”

“Hi, Jules,” Harm said, offering up his best flyboy grin.

“It’s Juliette,” she said. She did not return his smile. She was that girl again, defiant and guarded.

So far, Jules had only let Mac and little AJ call her by her nickname. The teen had introduced herself to everyone else, Harriet and her school friends included, as Juliette. But she hadn’t been this antagonistic with anyone else when sharing her name. Mac watched her ward as she warily observed Harm, wondering what was going through the girl’s head.

“Juliette,” Harm corrected himself easily. “I work with Mac,” he said, giving Mac a light grin. Juliette took a protective step closer to Mac. Her frown deepened.

Ah, Mac thought. So that was the problem. It would be a sweet gesture, if it weren’t that Jules’ instinct to protect Mac was a product of growing up in an abusive household.

Mac slid a hand through Juliette’s hair.

“Harm is one of the best cooks I know,” she looked down at the girl, clearing wayward bangs from her face. She hadn’t taken Jules for a haircut since her arrival, Mac realized. They’d go this weekend. Maybe get manicures, too, just for fun. She wondered if Jules liked painting her nails.

Jules said nothing in response, just shrugged. Mac had expected some teasing about her own cooking, but the kid was not feeling at ease enough for her mischievous imp to come out and play. Hopefully she and Harm could work on that.

“I brought all the necessary ingredients,” Harm said. “The menu is shrimp linguine, garlic bread, and salad.”

They both noticed Jules’ frown deepen even further at hearing that salad was a part of their meal.

“And,” he held up one of the bags. “Chocolate cake.”

Mac winked at Juliette. The girl didn’t smile, but there was a slight thaw.

Throughout dinner, Harm worked his charm and, when that failed, he fell back on good old fashioned story telling.

“And Mac here threw up her breakfast,” Harm said, grinning widely at Jules, as he recounted this latest tale.

“Wait,” Jules turned to Mac. “You flew in a fighter jet?”

“I did,” Mac replied. “It was terrible.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Harm admonished. “It’s the best experience in the world.”

“Can anyone fly in a jet?” Jules looked from Mac to Harm. “I mean, do you need training?”

“Usually, yes,” Harm answered, “In Mac’s case, there were some special circumstances at play.” He studied Jules for a moment. “I have a Stearman I can take you up in, if you’d like to fly.”

“It’s a lot more fun, and more relaxing than flying in a fighter jet,” Mac added. “It doesn’t go anywhere near as fast or as high.”

Jules’ eyes widened, but she was quick to hide it. She looked down at her plate and shrugged.

Harm gave Mac a troubled look at the sudden shift in Jules’ behaviour.

“We could make a day of it,” Mac added, before Harm could retract the offer. She’d have to tell him this was Jules’ M.O. whenever she wanted something; she wouldn’t let herself believe she could have it. “Before it gets too cold out.”

“Definitely,” Harm agreed readily. He said to Jules: “just pick a weekend, Juliette, and I’ll take you up.”

“It’s a plan,” Mac said. She looked at Harm and changed the subject to allow Jules the time and space to process. “Now where’s that chocolate cake you promised us, Harm?”

---

“Will Harm come over again?”’ Jules asked Mac a week later. The sun shone brightly in a flawless blue sky. The air was crisp around them, and leaves crunched underfoot as they walked through a giant corn maze, forty minutes outside the city

“Sure,” Mac said, “I’m sure he will. You miss his cooking, don’t you?”

“I didn’t know shrimp could taste so good. Do you think he’ll make chicken next time?”

“We can ask him,” Mac said. “Let’s take a left here,” she told Jules. “I think we’re close to the exit.”

Jules was quiet as they took the turn.

“I think” she began slowly, shyly, “that Harm has kind eyes. Like you.”

“I think he does, too,” Mac agreed.

“Like you, and Harriet, and Bud.” The tips of her ears were red, but Juliette shrugged as though what she had just said wasn’t a big deal. They walked on in silence until the next split in the maze.

“How about we take a left here,” Mac said to her ward. “What do you think?”

“I think we’re hopelessly lost,” Jules said with an overly dramatic flair. “It’s a good thing we bought some kettle corn before we walked in here.”

“You and your junk food,” Mac said fondly. Mac, ruffled the girl’s hair. Jules had wanted to cut it to shoulder length. It suited her. They took a left. Mac thought perhaps they were nearing the maze’s exit.

“Can we make pumpkin pie, too?” Jules leaned into Mac, happily munching on her kettle corn.

Mac laughed. “We can definitely try. Alright, a right here.”

“Can Harm bake?” Jules asked, turning right at the fork in the maze.

“He doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth,” Mac replied. “But he’s full of surprises. I think we’re almost there. Another two rights, and we should be clear.”

“Okay,” Jules agreed. She popped in another handful of popcorn. “You’re the marine.”

“We can pick up a pumpkin for the pie,” Mac said, “when we choose our carving pumpkins.”

“They’re different?” she asked, turning right at the next fork.

“The ones for cooking are smaller. If we make a right up there, we should be in the clear. The flesh tastes better in the smaller ones. We can roast the seeds from the carving pumpkins and snack on those.”

“Sounds like fun,” Jules said. They took the last right, and found themselves at the exit.

“You did it!” Jules exclaimed.

“I may not be able to cook a meatloaf,” Mac said happily, “but with me you’ll never be lost for too long.”

Jules looked at Mac for a long moment. Mac replayed her words, wondering what had the girl so pensive.

“You know,” Jules said, “the chicken pot pie you made yesterday was really good.”

“Thanks,” Mac grinned, knowing exactly what Juliette was trying to tell her. “I love you, too, kid.”

The tips of Jules’ ears turned red. It only made Mac’s grin widen.

(cont'd in this thread)

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[> Awakening 3 (Part 2) -- keru, 11:11:23 11/13/13 Wed [1]

(cont'd from previous msg in this thread...Sorry for all the bold in the last one! Eeks!)

“So, we let the pasta boil for seven minutes, stirring every so often” Harm instructed. “Stirring can be your job.”

“Really?” Jules looked at Harm sceptically.

“Sure, you’ll be great at it.” He handed her the wooden spoon, and watched as she stirred. “See, already a pro.”

“I’ve never had freshly made pasta before,” Jules told him. “We always ate the boxed stuff. And it’s what Mac makes, too.”

“You’ll love it,” he assured her. “Now, while the pasta boils, we can check on the chicken.”

Mac watched in amusement as he opened the oven and showed Jules how to check the chicken for doneness. He was a natural with her, and Mac could see Jules slowly loosening up and lightening up around Harm. It was very endearing to watch unfold.

“So,” Harm said to Jules once they’d established the chicken needed another five minutes. “Mac tells me you’re a starter on your school’s volleyball team. That’s amazing. Congratulations.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” Jules shrugged.

“Yes, it is,” Mac said. “Fifty girls showed up to tryouts,” she told Harm. She couldn’t help but boast. “Jules’ coach said he’d never seen so much talent in someone who’d never played before.”

Mac watched the tips of Jules’ ears turn red. The teen concentrated on stirring the pasta, while Harm and Mac exchanged a smile, both equally endeared by her.

“I tried out for the volleyball team when I was in high school,” Harm confided. “First time I made contact with the ball, I wanted to show off so I spiked it. Right into the coach’s face.”

Jules let out a startled giggle. “No way,” she said, staring at Harm to try and gauge his sincerity.

“Scout’s honour,” Harm said. “I didn’t make the team.”

Mac grinned at seeing Jules’ delight with the story. She glanced at Harm, to find he was watching her, his gaze warm and pleased and focused solely on her. She didn’t look away.

Later that night, once Jules was tucked away in bed, Harm and Mac sat on her couch, sipping on hot cups of coffee.

“Dinner was amazing,” Mac told him. “Jules really eats well when you cook. Thank you, Harm.”

“I enjoy cooking for you guys,” Harm answered easily. “Beats making dinner for one.”

They sat in a comfortable quiet. She enjoyed the softness and warmth cast by his presence here with her.

“She’s doing well, isn’t she?” Harm asked her.

“She is,” Mac agreed. “She’s really gotten comfortable around you,” she gave him a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“What is it?” he asked her gently.

“She still hasn’t spoken about her father. Or about her mother, even, since I told her they’d found him.”

“It’s a lot to take in.”

“I know,” she agreed. “I know it is. But I worry she’s bottling it all up.”

“She’ll talk when she’s ready, Mac. The way she looks at you,” he told her, “she trusts you.”

Mac hoped that was true.

“Hey,” he cupped her chin. “You’re doing great.”

With those words, he did what he’d always been able to do with her: cut right to the heart of her worries, of her insecurities. And in putting words to her restless feelings, he made her feel better; made her feel like her worries could be vanquished because he had faith in her.

“Thank you,” she covered his hand with hers.

His eyes roamed her face and looked deep into her eyes. She felt her pulse quicken and her blood rush. His gaze dropped to her lips. He leaned forward.

The floor creaked, from the direction of Jules’ room. It was enough to pull Mac from the spell he’d cast. His hand dropped away, and he moved away from her on the couch.

“Harm,” she said. “I…” She thought of Juliette, of all the changes in the girl’s life. “There’s a lot going on right now,” she began. But Jules liked Harm; more importantly, Mac liked Harm. A lot. Maybe--

He scoffed, a sound of impatience. She looked up at him startled, her thoughts cut off and lost.

“You’re pulling away,” he accused. “Again.”

“I’m not,” she defended. Any further defence was cut short by the ringing of her phone. She moved to answer it quickly, before it woke Jules up.

“MacKenzie,” she said into the receiver. Harm was watching her from his spot on the couch, still supremely annoyed with her.

“Sarah, it’s Clay.”

She hadn’t heard from him in so long. She had forgotten his abrupt departure and their unfinished meal.

“What’s wrong?” she asked him.

“Nothing,” he said. His voice did sound like there was happiness there. “I just got cleared to return to the field, full-time. I wanted to share the news with you.”

“Clay,” she began. She caught the way Harm’s expression hardened.

“No,” he cut her off. “It’s fine. I haven’t heard from you in long enough, Sarah. I’m not calling to convince you that we’re worth a shot. I just wanted you to know. I wouldn’t be here if not for you.”

She softened at hearing that, and allowed herself to share in his success. “I’m glad to hear it, Clay. I didn’t do much of anything.”

“You did more than you know, Sarah. Take care of yourself.”

“You, too,” she told him. Slowly she hung up the phone. She didn’t even register the smile on her face until she saw Harm’s stoney expression.

“That was Clay,” she said.

“I heard,” he cut her off before she could finish.

“Harm,” she said, before he could get ahead of himself. “There’s nothing between me and Clay.”

“Of course not.” He scoffed again. “You just pulled him around on your leash. He was a good distraction, wasn’t he. Following your lead, too afraid to ask for more from the great Sarah MacKenzie.”

“Stop it,” she said, realizing what this was about. “I wasn’t pulling away from you.”

“Have you ever let any man in, Mac?” The anger was back, hot and sharp.

“Don’t you dare,” she warned. “Don’t you dare,” she repeated. “And keep your voice down.”

“You push people away.” He stood up, his voice getting louder despite her warning.

“You’re the one who kept throwing roadblocks between us,” she accused. The sheer hypocrisy of his words caused her to see red.

“I am not the one who slapped you in the face after you dropped everything to save me from an impossible situation!” All semblance of control was gone. He stepped up to her, towered over her.

“Is that what this is about?” she glared at him. “What do you want from me?”

“More than what you’re giving me!” he shot back.

“I tried calling you!”

“You turned me away and went to him!” He pointed an angry finger towards the phone. “After everything! How could you?”

“He told me what he wanted in plain English, Harm! I’m not a mind reader!”

“No, Mac. You only see what you want to.” He shook his head in disgust. “I could’ve told you in every language you speak, and you still wouldn’t get it! You don’t want to be happy!”

She took a step away from him.

“Get out,” she told him, her tone now cold.

“Fine,” he ground out. “That’s always your answer.” He turned on his heel and left.

The door slammed shut violently behind him, the sound echoing obtrusively in her apartment. Mac let out a frustrated breath. She supposed they were due. She’d been deluding herself to think that things could be smoothed over so easily with the man. She’d been living a fantasy. She rubbed her hand over her face, and turned to clean up their half-empty coffee cups. It was then that she saw Jules. The girl was hiding in the hallway, peeking out towards the living room. She looked terrified.

“Jules,” Mac said quietly, moving towards the girl. “I’m sorry.”

The young girl pursed her lips. Shook her head.

“Jules--”

Jules ran to her room. She slammed the door closed behind her.


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[> [> Really great addition to your other stories you have written. -- Roz, 15:27:19 11/13/13 Wed [1]


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[> It was going so well - a natural thaw in the ice. I guess they needed this. If you want to write 250 chapters I will be here for all of them. Thank you for continuing this story. -- Debbi, 12:14:32 11/13/13 Wed [1]


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[> [> I'm with Debbi and Kelsey. -- Laurence, 13:37:36 11/13/13 Wed [1]


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[> [> I agree -- Shazam, 19:08:53 11/14/13 Thu [1]


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[> 250 chapters would be awesome and I would enjoy them all. Great story thus far. -- Kelsey, 12:54:10 11/13/13 Wed [1]


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[> wow what a chapter so looking forward to more Keru keep it coming girl -- Bev uk, 13:43:16 11/13/13 Wed [1]


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[> Wow...really fantastic story. Please keep going! -- FJN, 17:24:28 11/13/13 Wed [1]


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[> You write how ever many chapters you can think of Keru, we'll gladly read them. This story is wonderful so far! -- Ciara, 18:04:30 11/13/13 Wed [1]


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[> Amazing chapter. So emotional. 250 sound like a nice round number. -- Beth, 20:57:20 11/13/13 Wed [1]


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[> Awesome, next chapter, please! -- JoyZ, 23:53:41 11/13/13 Wed [1]


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[> Oh Wow !! Great chapters please more soon, you have me on edge -- Alexa, 01:35:26 11/14/13 Thu [1]


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[> So excited to stop by the HB and find another of your wonderful stories, keru!! Fabulous writing, depthy emotions, and great character development!! I add my request for many more chapters! -- lisa, 13:31:07 11/14/13 Thu [1]


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[> Excellent writing as always, keru!! You draw us right into the world of the characters so beautifully. -- Dee, 19:12:52 11/15/13 Fri [1]


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