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Date Posted: 19:00:16 06/11/05 Sat
Author: TracyJean
Subject: DOALS I - Hands To Heaven 7/10
In reply to: TracyJean 's message, "Drifting On A Lonely Sea Chapter I - Hands To Heaven" on 18:19:27 06/06/05 Mon

As promised, here's a second post for today....

~*~*~*~

FOUR HOURS LATER
MAC'S APARTMENT

As Mac closed her apartment door behind her, slumping back against it, she said a silent prayer of thanks that her home was dark, that she had no surprises waiting to greet her. She didn't know what she would have done if Mic had somehow gotten the idea in his head to come over this morning. Right now, it was so hard to make herself remain tall and strong and to not give into the trembling deep inside of her. She couldn't even clearly remember the drive home. One moment, she'd been standing on the pavement at the airfield at Norfolk, watching the helo carrying Harm to the Patrick Henry disappear into the clouds. The next thing she knew, she was sliding her key into the door lock.

"Get a grip, Mackenzie," she ordered herself firmly, pushing away from the door. Glancing at her desk, she noted the blinking light on her answering machine, but made no move to walk over there and press the button to check her messages. She knew she should – one or more of them was probably from Mic. As the wedding had drawn closer, he'd gotten into the habit of calling her at night when they weren't spending it together. Usually, she was flattered by the attention, but right now, she couldn't make herself listen to any message he might have left. If she did, she'd need to call him back and she wasn't sure that she’d composed herself enough to utter the lie she knew she'd have to tell him, the one to explain why she hadn't been home when he'd called.

She was thinking too much, she decided, rubbing her temples against the headache forming behind her eyes. She knew she needed to think about it – she'd promised Harm that she would and after everything they'd shared over the last four and a half years, after he'd made his own promise, she owed it to him to keep this one. But not right now. She hadn't gotten much sleep last night. Maybe she could close her eyes for a little bit and pretend for just a few hours that all was right with her reality.

With a heavy sigh, she walked into her bedroom and tossed her purse on the bed then dragged her t-shirt over her head, throwing it on the bed as well. Maybe a long, hot bath would help. It couldn't hurt at this point – she was sure that nothing could hurt her any more than she already was at this point, except for having to face Mic right at this moment. She just wasn't holding out much hope that the bath would help any.

Quickly removing the rest of her clothes and tossing them into a pile on the bed, she went into the bathroom and began filling the tub, turning the water on as hot as she could possibly stand it. She watched the water pour into the tub for a moment, then turned around and rummaged under the bathroom sink, returning to the tub with a bottle of vanilla-scented bath foam. The bottle was nearly full – she didn't often have the time to indulge in a leisurely soak with something as frivolous as this. But right now, she was willing to try anything to try to relax.

While the tub was filling, the fragrant scent of the foam filling the small room, she returned to the bedroom, gathering her clothes into her arms. As she turned to carry the clothes to the hamper in the corner of the room, she noticed a white piece of paper barely poking out of her purse. She couldn't remember there being any paper in her purse. Shifting the clothes to one arm, she reached down and pulled the paper from her purse, noticing a slight bulge in the middle of the folded sheet. She shook the paper slightly, the object inside falling to land face up on the bedspread.

Mac simply stared for a long moment at the shiny pin, her mind unable to process the reality of what was staring her in the face. This couldn't be real. It was just another sign that her mind couldn't let go of the events of the past twenty-four hours. Slowly, she turned her back to the bed and finished what she'd been doing before, depositing her clothes in the hamper. Surely, when she turned back around, she would find that it was just an illusion, a product of the thoughts tormenting her.

Taking a calming breath, she turned back around, the gold pin still shining brightly from the top of the cream-colored comforter. She knelt beside the bed and tentatively reached out, the tip of a finger tracing the contours of the pin. How could she have thought this might be an illusion? Never, in her wildest dreams, could she have imagined this happening. She knew just how much this meant to him, knew better than probably anyone. So how could she have possibly thought that he might make such a grand gesture? She never could have dreamed it because until this moment, she never would have thought that it was possible.

Harm may have vowed not to pressure her, but he’d just upped the stakes, in a way that only he could. She knew, even without reading the letter, which she assumed contained some kind of explanation – or an attempt at one. She knew what he was trying to tell her. He could have been in front of her right at this moment, on bended knee, offering her everything she'd ever wanted, everything that Mic was so willing to give her and which she thought Harm would never be able to offer, vowing 'I love you' over and over again, and it couldn't have affected her more than the anchor and shield, centered on a pair of gold wings.

Gathering up the wings and his letter, she returned to the bathroom to find the tub in danger of overfilling. Stepping into the tub, she sank into the steaming, fragrant water and turned off the water with her foot. Careful to hold her arms above the foam, she leaned back, letting her head rest against the bath pillow attached to the wall behind her. Clutching the wings in her closed fist, the pins digging into her palm where they’d pushed through the rubber backing, she opened the letter and began to read….

<i>Sarah,

I have so much to say, but I can't find the words. You said that to me once. I didn't want to acknowledge the meaning behind those words then, but I have to now because I know now exactly how you felt that day, as I walked out of JAG, out of your life. I didn't want to think about it before that, when you had left JAG and me for Dalton, but then you came back before I had learned to deal with it and everything was fine again, going on as before. Maybe I had been expecting the same thing when I came back, only I found that you had managed to move on without me. I had expected things to go back to the way they were and I didn't know how to deal with it when they didn't and …. well, we've all been living with the consequences of that for nearly two years. That's what it all comes down to, isn't it?

I could sit here all night and write down reasons why neither of us can walk away from what happened tonight, but you know them as well as I do. We've been through so much over the last four plus years and I don't have to remind you of that – of the partnership, the friendship, the arguments, the laughter, the tears. You know everything we've been through, everything we've shared, as well as I do.

I know that you have other things to consider. So much has happened the last two years and I know that you can't just forget about that and about everyone who might be hurt by what may or may not happen. I promised not to pressure you and you know how I am about my promises. But I do need to make sure that you know one thing. You were my best friend long before we became lovers and, although it will be one of the hardest things that I will ever have to do, I will remain your best friend always and will try to put tonight behind me if that's what you want me to do.

Aside from never wanting to lose you, I also want you to be happy. If the only way to have both is to watch you marry him on Saturday and to go back to only being your best friend, then that's what I'll do. You'll never have to worry …. that I'll do something that you don't want me to do. If it's what you want, all you will ever have from me from this day on is my friendship and my well wishes. All the rest will remain locked away, never to be spoken of or acted upon again.

I don't know what else I can say to you, how to tell you in words how much you and your happiness mean to me. I guess all I can say right now is 'Be happy, Sarah Mackenzie' and know that, no matter which way things turn out, if you're happy, then I can not and will not ask for more.
Harm

PS – When I first told you that I was going back to flying, you accused me of valuing flying more than …. everything. I was afraid to tell you then, but here's my response.</i>

"Oh, God," she whispered as she finished reading his words, choking back tears, opening her fist to stare at the gold wings in her hand. Instinctively, she'd known as soon as she'd seen them what he was trying to say, but to have it before her in black and white …. Here was irrefutable proof of how Harm felt about her. It may not have been 'I love you', but even those three words could not have torn at her heart more than the bright gold wings he wore so proudly on his uniform, the wings which he'd bestowed upon her.

When he'd first told her that he wanted to return to active flight status, she'd wanted to say 'me', that he valued flying more than her. Maybe if he had to confront her statement, then he'd think more about what he was doing and perhaps change his mind. Even two years later, she still wasn't sure what had stopped her from uttering the single word which may have made all the difference. Maybe it was the same thing that had stopped him from coming out and saying 'I love you' in so many words in the letter.

'If you love something, set it free. If it doesn't come back, it was never yours to begin with.' She turned the old saying over in her mind. Deep down, perhaps she'd been afraid two years ago that if she'd said something that forced him to stay, he'd end up resenting her eventually for taking him away from his dream. He’d eventually come back to her, but by then she'd built up walls around her heart to prevent herself from being hurt again. By the time she'd decided to throw caution to the wind, he was the one putting up walls. Now, they both had acknowledged their feelings and he was offering to set her free. Not once in the letter had he said that he wanted her to come back to him. Most of the letter was his assurance that he would do everything to see her happy and to not let what had happened, what would happen if she married Mic, destroy their friendship. The decision was in her hands and he’d promised to accept it, no matter what.

She closed her eyes, desperately praying for an answer, for anything that would make the decision she was facing easier, that would show her which was the better option – sticking with what she was sure would be or taking a chance on what could be.

~*~*~*~

LATER THAT AFTERNOON

After soaking for nearly an hour, during which she'd practically memorized Harm's letter she'd reread it so many times, she’d made herself get out of the tub and crawl into bed in an attempt to catch up on some of the sleep she'd missed the night before. Not that her slumber was restful. As soon as she'd closed her eyes, she'd seen him. It was an old dream that she'd had on and off ever since their first trip to Russia. When they'd shared that hotel room, instead of attempting to sleep in the chair, she'd invited him into the bed and they hadn't been able to keep their hands off each other. Sometimes, it would be slow and tender. Others, it would be hard and fiery. But never before had it been so realistic. She could swear this time that she'd felt his hands on her body, could smell the musky, heavy scent of sex, could hear his voice murmuring words of love in her ear.

It was because it was more real. She no longer had to imagine what it would be like. She knew. She’d experienced all of that for real last night and now realized that even the most explicit fantasy could not compare to the reality that she’d experienced in his arms. But was it enough? Sure, they were hot together between the sheets, but was that enough to take the chance of throwing away what she knew she could have with Mic – the home, the stability, the family – for what may or may not work out with Harm in the long run? What else did she and Harm have to base a relationship on?

Tossing the bed covers aside, she climbed from bed, noting a slight chill in the apartment, odd for late May. Grabbing her robe from the closet, she pulled it on and tied the belt around her waist. Going into the living room, she pulled a thick photo album from the bookshelf and curled up on the couch with it, opening it to the first page, her mind immediately recalling all the details of when and where the picture had been taken. Since they’d all missed the reception at the White House after Harm had been awarded his Distinguished Flying Cross, the Admiral had arranged a get together for the JAG staff at McMurphy’s a few days after they’d returned from Arizona. She’d been off sitting by herself, not quite in the party mood. Although she was happy for the man who was her new partner and who was quickly becoming her friend, she’d been worried about Uncle Matt and his upcoming trial. Harm had noticed and, after setting his beer bottle on an empty table, had joined her ….

~*~*~*~

OCTOBER 1996
MCMURPHY’S TAVERN

“You didn’t have to do that,” Mac said, nodding towards his discarded beer bottle. “I’ve gotten used over the years to people drinking in front of me. It doesn’t really bother me.” That wasn’t entirely the truth. It was sometimes a struggle, watching others down alcohol as easily as they downed soda, smelling the liquor in the air on people’s breaths, and not taking a sip herself. At times, it was worse than others and this was one of those times. She was so worried about Uncle Matt that it would have been so easy to give into the temptation to drown her problems in the bottle. Only her long-standing respect and love for her uncle made keeping the temptation at bay easier.

She just wasn’t sure that she could, or wanted to, explain all that to Harm. Sure, she’d opened up about her alcoholism, but she still wasn’t sure what had made her do that. She barely knew the man, plus there was that whole situation with her apparently dead doppelganger. She’d freaked him out on first glance, but somehow, he seemed so easy to trust.

Harm shrugged, considering it no big deal. It had just seemed the thing to do. “Worried about Colonel O’Hara?” he asked, changing the topic to the one which had brought him to her table, to the one he was sure was responsible for her somber mood. Harm hadn’t taken the time to analyze the reasons why he cared so much. All he knew for sure was that it wasn’t because of her resemblance to Diane – at least, for the most part. Out there in the desert, he’d quickly discovered that the likeness between the two women was only skin deep. He couldn’t imagine Diane ever holding a gun on him like Mac had, even if it was just a ruse. He chuckled softly at the memory.

Mac gave him a sharp glance. “What’s so funny?” she demanded.

“Just thinking about some things,” he replied vaguely. He wasn’t ready to go in-depth into the subject of Diane with her. Perhaps he never would be. He watched her for a moment as she cast her eyes downward, staring into the glass of tonic water in front of her. “Mac, I’m going to do everything I can for your uncle. He’s a good man.”

“Tell me something, Harm,” she requested, looking back up at him. “Why do you care so much? I held a gun on you, for God’s sake!”

He wasn’t really surprised by the question. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out that Mac wasn’t one who easily trusted others. He wouldn’t be surprised to learn that her uncle was one of the few – if not the only – people she felt she could trust unequivocally. “I understand why you did it,” he answered quietly. “You love your uncle and would do anything for him. I know what that’s like, loving and looking up to someone so much that you’d do anything, even if it meant risking everything.”

Mac stared at him for a moment, wondering who in Harm’s life was that important to him, for she recognized his tone as coming from a man who really did understand. But that was probably a discussion for another time. “Harm,” she began, her voice barely betraying the hesitation she felt. He waited patiently for her to continue. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mac,” he replied. Such a simple response, but she could hear the sincerity in his voice. Maybe here was someone else who would prove to be worthy of her trust and loyalty ….

~*~*~*~

While they’d been quietly talking, Tiner – who often acted as unofficial photographer at JAG parties – had snapped a picture of the two of them. They were leaning close to each other and it almost looked as if they were sharing some secret. Harm, as the guest of honor at that particular party, had been gifted with a photo album of the pictures taken that night. After Mac had seen the album, she’d gone to Tiner and asked for a copy of that particular picture. It became the first of many photos of the two of them detailing nearly five years of partnership and friendship.

What would Mic have done? How would he have acted if he’d been the one out there in the Arizona desert with her? Somehow, she couldn’t imagine Mic hanging from the skid of a helicopter. Despite losing his job over Bud and Harriet’s case, she wasn’t even sure that he would have been willing to lay it all on the line for her uncle. Perhaps the difference was that he knew Bud and Harriet, making it easier to make such a sacrifice. She also figured that he would have spent most of the mission shamelessly flirting with her. Harm hadn’t. With the exception of his slip about the bed in the back of the truck they’d rented – which he’d quickly backpedaled on after she’d shot him a withering look – he’d shown respect for the distance she’d tried to keep between them in the beginning.

Mac flipped a few more pages in the album until she found one taken on the Seahawk during their investigation into Lieutenant Isaac's sexual harassment claims against then-Captain Boone. Since it was her first time on an aircraft carrier, she’d taken along a camera. The intent had been to take some pictures to add to the separate album she kept chronicling her military career. She’d been snapping pictures of some F-14s taking off and landing when she’d caught sight of Harm nearby, watching the Tomcats with such a look of longing and regret in his eyes, probably reliving memories brought to the forefront by Congresswoman Delong's thoughtless comments. He hadn’t noticed her presence and she’d taken advantage by snapping a photo. It was one of her favorites of Harm, dressed in his khakis, his hair ruffled by the breeze. It seemed to say so much about who Harm was.

One of the things she admired most about Harm was his never-give-up attitude. He’d never given up on his father, traveling to Laos and later to Russia until he knew for sure the fate of Harmon Rabb, Sr. He wasn’t giving up on his brother, locked away in a prisoner of war camp for five months now. After his crash, although it had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done, he’d eventually decided not to give up on the Navy and did a complete career 180, attending law school and becoming a desk jockey for the most part, a drastic change from soaring the skies in an F-14. And there were so many other times when he’d refused to back down. She doubted that Harm knew how to.

What about Mic? To be honest, she’d never really seen him in a situation where any leanings he’d had towards that personality trait might be revealed. Mic seemed perfectly content working for his clients from behind a desk. She couldn’t see him traveling to Haiti just to bring to light the truth about a case – especially if the truth would be detrimental to his own case – the way Harm had during their prosecution of John Farrow. Mic cared about winning – she’d seen that so many times. But Harm cared about the truth, even if it meant losing a case. It wasn’t that Mic was a bad lawyer – he was a good lawyer who won his share of cases. But Harm’s passion for truth and justice made him an exceptional one. And although his smug attitude when he was right about something could be annoying, she couldn’t recall ever really feeling bad about losing a case to Harm because she knew that the outcome was usually the right one. Even in cases like Lieutenant Buxton's or Kevin Lee's, Harm usually ended up doing the right thing in the end.

Of course, that same never-say-die attitude of Harm’s also got him into a lot of trouble, a lot of life-or-death situations. Any incident with Palmer, Italy looking for the Admiral’s daughter, on the Watertown, on the Suribachi – so many times, she found herself gripped with a heart-pounding fear of Harm being in danger. She’d never felt that with Mic – she’d never seen him in that kind of trouble in the two plus years she’d known him. She’d probably never have to experience that pulse-racing sensation because of Mic. But her concern about Harm’s proclivity towards daredevil antics was tempered by the knowledge that he had the training – despite being an airedale and then a desk jockey – and the instincts to work his way out of those situations. He was a survivor.
She turned another page in the album, smiling at a picture of her, Harm and Bud laughing and joking at the annual JAG picnic, this particular picnic having been the first one she’d been around for. She and Harm had experienced their share of good times. Their entire relationship wasn’t about battling in court or working their way out of dire circumstances.

Mac’s head jerked up from the album when she heard a knock on the door and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. What if it was Mic, wondering where she’d been when he’d tried to call? She knew she needed to get around to returning any calls he’d made while she was gone, but she wasn’t ready for that yet. There was so much to sort out and sometimes Mic could be a little over-bearing. Right now, what she needed most was space.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she got up and checked the peep hole in the door, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw her sister on the other side.

Managing a smile, she opened the door. “Hi, Chloe,” she greeted her. “Did your Dad drop you off?” She glanced down the hallway towards the elevator, seeing no sign of Kyle’s presence.

“He dropped me off in front of the building,” Chloe said as she walked into the apartment, immediately taking note of Mac’s state of dress. Chloe knew she was normally an early riser, but looking at Mac in her robe, she could have sworn she’d just gotten out of bed. Not that she wished her sister a restless night’s sleep, but she hoped this was a sign that Mac was doing some serious thinking about the step she was planning to take in less than forty-eight hours. “We were supposed to spend some time together this afternoon, remember?”

“Of course I do,” Mac replied, although she honestly had been so wrapped up in her thoughts that it had slipped her mind. At least Chloe’s presence wasn’t really an intrusive one right now. “I just …. had a hard time sleeping last night. I got up this morning, took a bath, and then fell asleep again. There’s a lot going on, with the wedding and everything.”

It was a pretty vague answer, with just enough truth mixed in to convince just about anyone, but Chloe wasn’t most people. She may have only been fourteen, but she was a romantic at heart and thought she knew true love when she saw it and she hadn’t seen it – or heard it in Mac’s voice, since she’d hardly seen Mac and Mic together – between Mac and Mic. But Harm and Mac – it seemed so obvious to her and it was a mystery to her why two otherwise intelligent people kept dancing around their feelings the way the two of them did. “So, did you get a chance to talk to Harm yesterday before he left for Norfolk?” Chloe asked, as nonchalantly as possible. She tried to sound as if she were merely inquiring about the weather or about how Jingo was doing, and she turned slightly away, bending down to scratch behind Jingo’s ears in greeting, so that Mac couldn’t see the hope in her expression.

“Not exactly,” Mac replied softly. Another vague answer, but true in a way. She hadn’t spoken to Harm *before* he’d left for Norfolk and when she’d seen him, talking hadn’t exactly been high on the agenda.

Chloe straightened back up and turned around, about to shoot off a smart aleck reply along the lines of ‘why the hell not’ when she was brought up short by the look on Mac’s face, a mix of intense despair and longing. She just couldn’t figure out what it meant, but she was pretty sure about one thing. Somehow, she sensed that Mac had seen Harm, but it didn’t look like anything had been resolved between them. If Harm hadn’t been on his way out to an aircraft carrier, perhaps even there by now, Chloe would have a few choice words to say to him about why he was letting the greatest woman in the world slip away from him and marry a man she didn’t love. She bit back her retort and changed the subject. “What’s that you were looking at?” she asked, motioning towards the album still in Mac’s hands.

Mac looked down at the album with an odd look, as if she was stunned to find it in her hands. Shaking her head, she walked over to the bookcase and placed the album back where she’d gotten it from. “Just a photo album,” she replied. “Why don’t I get dressed, then we’ll decide what we want to do for the rest of the afternoon?” Without waiting for Chloe’s reply, she fled to the bedroom, needing the solitude to compose herself before she faced her sister again. So far, her presence wasn’t helping to dispel the ache settled in Mac’s heart.

As soon as Mac closed the bedroom door behind her, Chloe pulled the album back off the bookcase and carried it over to the couch. There was no concern in her mind about invading Mac’s privacy. She was worried about her and knew that something in this album was bothering Mac. “Oh, boy,” she breathed as she flipped through the pages. No wonder Mac was disturbed. As far as she could tell by her cursory glance through the album, Harm was present in every single picture. She stopped at one picture, smiling as she recognized the setting....

~*~*~*~

To be continued....

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[> DOALS I - Hands To Heaven 8/10 -- TracyJean, 18:52:48 06/13/05 Mon

<i>31 DECEMBER 1998
THE ROBERTS’ RESIDENCE

“It was nice of Bud and Harriet to invite me,” Chloe said, sitting on the sofa in the Roberts’ living room, talking to Mac. Various members of the JAG staff were milling around the apartment, as well as Bud’s brother Mikey. She saw Harm off in a corner, talking to a red-headed woman and a black man – fellow JAG attorneys, she recalled. At least that shrink wasn’t here – she’d noticed that the doctor had seemed quite taken with Harm when they’d met at JAG, but what kind of doctor was dumb enough to guzzle down cough medicine then get behind the wheel of a car? Not exactly Harm’s kind of woman, she thought confidently, although she barely knew Harm, except what Mac had told her. Then again, to her eleven-year-old mind, there was only one woman right for Harm and she was sitting next to Chloe.

“Bud and Harriet are great people,” Mac replied. She gave her sister a stern glance. “And it was very nice of them, especially after the way you acted when you first met them.”

Chloe laughed, knowing that Mac wasn’t really scolding her. They’d already hashed everything out about her smart remarks, except for the comments about Harm and her fantasies. Chloe had tried to bring up the topic, which Mac had refused to touch it with a ten-foot pole. “So when’s Harriet going to have her baby?” Chloe asked, deciding to change the subject. They might have already resolved the issue of Chloe’s attitude, but the girl was wise enough to know that it was probably best not to get into that again.

“May,” she replied, a soft smile on her face. Chloe tried to imagine what a child of Mac’s would be like. She knew already that she’d make a great mother – she managed to put up with her, after all. And with Harm as the father …. She drew her attention back to what Mac was saying. “They asked me a couple of weeks ago to be his or her godmother.”

“Cool,” Chloe exclaimed as Harm joined them, sitting down on Chloe’s other side. She suddenly wished she could switch places so that he was sitting next to Mac, but couldn’t think of a way of doing it without being completely obvious. Sure, obvious worked sometimes, but with Harm and Mac, she sensed that subtlety might work better in most cases, since obvious hadn't done much at the office. She’d save the obvious approach for those situations that called for drastic measures, like – well, she couldn’t think of one at the moment. She turned to Harm and smiled. “Mac was just telling me that she’s going to be godmother to Bud and Harriet’s baby.”

“I’d heard a rumor to that effect,” Harm commented with a grin. “So, Mac, have you been busy thinking of ways to spoil *our* godchild?” Chloe’s smile grew wider upon hearing that news. Harm and Mac as godparents together could only be a good thing. Maybe they’d get so much into being godparents that they’d figure they should have a child of their own to love and to shower affection on. If the JAG crew hadn’t managed to find her real father, Chloe couldn’t imagine anything better than being raised by Harm and Mac.

“Right now, I’m planning on showing my godchild how to appreciate the good things in life,” she teased, grinning back at Harm. “Like the virtues of the Marine Corps over the Navy or a well prepared Beltway Burger.”

“I don’t think so,” Harm shot back. “No burgers for my godchild and you’re forgetting that both of his parents are Navy.”

“So what do you imagine doing with him or her?” Mac asked. As Chloe had watched them banter back and forth, she became more convinced than ever that if there were ever two people made for each other, it was these two.

“As soon as he’s old enough, I’ll teach him how to fly,” he replied. “Maybe Bud and Harriet will have a future naval aviator on their hands.”

“He?” Mac mused. “What if he turns out to be a girl? Are you going to teach her how to fly, too?”

Harm had looked shocked at the idea for a split second – which Mac caught, of course, evidenced by her laugh at his expression – before replying smoothly, “Of course, I would teach my goddaughter how to fly. Girls can fly. You haven’t done half bad when I’ve taken you up in ‘Sarah’.”

Chloe listened in amused silence when Mac countered, “Just make sure you leave the nut cases behind when you take up my godchild.” Harm and Mac both laughed, Chloe joining in almost as an afterthought because it seemed to be the thing to do, while she filed away what she’d learned for future reference. ‘Sarah’, she assumed, was a plane that Harm owned and she thought it telling that it had the same name as her sister ….</i>

~*~*~*~

That was the moment the photographer – Harriet, as Chloe recalled – had captured, the three of them laughing together. Mac had later made copies of the pictures from the party that Chloe had been in and had sent them to her. This particular one was now in a frame on Chloe’s dresser back home. Looking at that photo gave her hope during darker times when she wondered what could possibly be going on in their minds that they’d waste so much time with other people when they could have been with each other. Jordan had eventually gone, while Mac had remained by herself for the longest time, maybe because Harm had been seeing someone else, or so Chloe had hoped. But then Mac had suddenly announced one day that Mic had asked her to marry him and that she was considering it, while Harm had gotten involved with someone Mac had referred to as the ‘Video Princess’. Maybe she should have tried to be more obvious about them all along. Better yet, maybe she should have knocked them both over the head with a sledgehammer two years earlier.

She laughed at the thought, glancing up when she heard a sound that appeared to come from just inside the door of Mac’s bedroom. She glanced at the album in her hands and considered for a brief moment putting it back where she’d gotten it from before Mac saw her with it, but then decided against it. Now, less than two days before Mac was scheduled to walk down the aisle with a man other than Harm, was definitely not the time to be subtle. She almost wished for that sledgehammer right now.

Mac came out of the bedroom, dressed in jeans and a red t-shirt, sighing when she saw the album in Chloe’s hands. Really, she was far from surprised. Chloe was very curious, sometimes too curious for her own good. Chloe carefully guarded her expression, managing to convey the impression that this particular album of photos was no different than any other Mac might have lying around her home. “So, did you have any ideas about this afternoon?” Chloe asked as Mac sat down next to her, glancing at the album, still open to the picture taken at the Roberts’ apartment. “I was thinking maybe we could go to the zoo. I’d love to see the new pandas.”

“It’s an idea,” Mac said. She still hadn’t given the topic much thought, trying unsuccessfully not to think about much of anything while she’d gotten dressed. Of course, it was hard not to think when confronted with the presence of the gold wings sitting on her nightstand. She’d almost put them away in a drawer so she wouldn’t have to look at them, but hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it, no more than she'd been able to put her engagement ring back on. Both were visible reminders of the weight of the decision she had to make, as if she hadn't already been aware of just how much was riding on her decision. “I just went last week on AJ’s birthday and the pandas are something. Anyway, you like animals, so the zoo’s a great idea.”

“Well, I’m ready whenever you are,” Chloe said enthusiastically, perhaps a little too much so for Mac’s current mood. But maybe Chloe’s youthful exuberance was just what she needed to get her mind off of things, as long as the topic stayed away from Harm or her upcoming nuptials.

Mac glanced towards the window and noticed the cloudy skies. “Maybe we should take an umbrella,” she suggested, “just in case. It looks like it might rain.” She went to retrieve the umbrella and a jacket, stopping when they heard a knock at the door. Maybe it was Harriet, she thought, thinking she needed some company to keep her from going crazy in the hours before …. Anyway, if it was Harriet, then she could always invite her and AJ to accompany them to the zoo. Like most little kids, AJ loved seeing all the ‘amimals’. She turned and headed for the door, her hand freezing on the knob when she saw through the peephole who was on the other side, while Chloe resisted the urge to swear, imagining their fun afternoon going up in smoke. She knew, from the way Mac was holding herself, who was on the other side.

Yet again, Mac took a deep breath as she opened the door, working even harder than she had with Chloe to keep her expression neutral and free of the tormented situation plaguing her thoughts. “Hi, Mic,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t betray her nervousness.

“Hello, luv,” he said, pulling her into his arms as he walked into the apartment. Mac had to force herself not to react negatively as she was faced with the moment she’d been dreading – facing Mic for the first time after she’d spent the night in another man’s arms and bed. She made herself return his kiss, trying not to think about the difference between this one and all the kisses she and Harm had exchanged just hours ago, trying to dispel the feeling that he was branding her in some way, declaring for any who might see that ‘She is mine’. She tried to tell herself that the only reason she wasn't responding to Mic's kiss was the turmoil in her heart. She broke it off as quickly as she could without it appearing that she was pushing him away, tilting her head in Chloe’s direction. Mic glanced in that direction, as if noticing Chloe for the first time. “Hello, Chloe.”

“Hello, Mic,” she replied, trying to force the disgusting, at least to her, display from her mind. Unlike Mac, she had no doubts that Mic was being at least mildly possessive. Maybe someone should teach him a little about showing decorum in front of other people, she thought darkly.

“Why don’t you get changed, Sarah?” Mic suggested. “I thought, with all the wedding preparations going on, that you might not have had lunch yet, so I made reservations for us at Le Tours for a late lunch.”

Mac noticed the angry look on Chloe’s face and jumped in before she could say something smart to Mic. “Actually, Chloe and I had made plans for this afternoon,” she said calmly, disturbed that Mic just assumed that she would drop everything to have lunch with him. “I don’t get to see her that much now that she’s living in Vermont with her grandparents and today’s really going to be our only opportunity to spend any time together, with the rehearsal tomorrow and …. everything.”

Mic considered for a moment. He really wanted to spend some time alone with his fiancée. It seemed that between Jordan’s murder investigation, that sexual harassment case she’d defended and her preparations for her lecture on the Somers mutiny at the Academy, he’d hardly gotten to spend any time with her the past few weeks. Plus, he was a little upset that he hadn’t been able to reach her last night. But, as he’d told Renee at the engagement party, he was soon going to have her to himself for the rest of their lives. He could afford to share her now. He whipped out his cell phone and started dialing. “I can change our reservation to the three of us,” he conceded. “I’d love the opportunity to get to know my future sister-in-law better.”

Chloe took advantage of Mic’s distraction with his phone call to shoot Mac a pleading look. The last thing she wanted was to spend the rest of the afternoon watching Mic fawn over her sister. And Le Tours sounded very fancy and French, hardly her type of restaurant at all. Mac shook her head, forestalling any argument, while Chloe wondered why Mac was letting Mic dictate to her like that. She turned back around as Mic hung up his phone. “No worries,” he told them, smiling smugly. “They didn’t have a problem changing the reservation. So why don’t you get ready so we can get going?”

“I don’t have anything to wear,” Chloe complained, gesturing to her jeans and sweater. “My clothes are back at the hotel and I only brought one dress with me, to wear at the dinner tomorrow night. I didn’t need any more than that, since Mac has my flower girl’s dress.” It wasn’t quite true – she’d brought a dress to wear when she would go to church Sunday morning with her father, but Mic didn’t need to know that.

“Just wear that dress,” Mic suggested. “Where’s your hotel? We can stop by on our way to the restaurant.”

Chloe was about to protest when Mac sent her another look, this one an odd cross between ‘Don’t even think about arguing any more’ and ‘Please do this for me’. She began to reconsider, wondering if there was a way to turn this situation to her advantage, sensing that Mac was as enthused about this lunch as she was. Finally, she nodded.

"Sarah, where's your ring?" Mic asked as she turned to head into the bedroom.

Shaken, she stopped, staring at her hand as if she'd just realized that it wasn't there. "Oh, I took a bath earlier," she said, willing her voice to remain calm and convincing. "I just haven't put it back on yet."

Mic seemed satisfied with her explanation, while Chloe just stared at the two of them. She hadn't even noticed the missing ring, berating herself for missing such a significant detail. Mac's story had sounded logical, but there had to be more to it than just forgetting to put it back on. When she'd arrived, Mac had been in a robe, but hadn't looked like she'd just come from a bath. She looked like she'd been asleep. If she’d taken a bath, it had been much earlier. A person didn't forget for hours not to put their engagement ring back on. Not if they really loved the person they were engaged to.

Satisfied that she'd managed to cover, Mac went into her bedroom to change, leaving Mic and Chloe alone. Chloe, not really in the mood to make small talk with Mic, went to the bookcase to return the photo album to its proper place, then made a show of studying the dinosaur fossils and bones on the top shelf. “So how’s school?” Mic asked, wanting to break the ice with her, but not really sure how to talk to a fourteen-year-old.

“Out for the summer,” she replied shortly, picking up a fossilized dinosaur track and studying it. She found Mac’s interest in dinosaurs fascinating, although she’d show an interest in anything right now to avoid having to talk to Mic. What was he thinking? What kid wanted to talk about school, especially during summer break?

“Oh,” Mic replied, at a loss for another topic of discussion. What interested teenager girls anyway these days, aside from music and boys? “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Chloe, you know I love your sister,” Mic said, settling on a topic which should be of common interest to the two of them.

“She’s been hurt in the past,” she said, finally turning around to face him, crossing her arms across her chest. “I don’t want to see her get hurt.”

“I’d never hurt Sarah,” he protested, assuming that Chloe’s statement stemmed from a desire to protect her sister and not any negative feelings towards him. “I’m not like …. other men she’s known.”

Chloe wanted to ask what he meant by that or if he’d meant anyone in particular, but stopped herself. She had a feeling she knew what the answer would be. From veiled referenced during conversations with Mac and even Harm, she knew that to say that Harm didn’t like Mic was an understatement and she sensed the feeling was mutual. But it was something she could use to her advantage. She smiled as an idea came to her, Mic assuming that the expression meant she was thawing towards him, but before either of them could say anything else, Mac returned. She’d rushed through changing her clothes and had put on just the bare minimum of makeup. Her ring was now back on her finger, where it had resided for the last five months. The sooner they left, the sooner she could get this over with, she thought, the idea never occurring to her that this wasn’t exactly the kind of thought she should be having about a man she was about to marry. But there was too much weighing on her mind for her to worry about how she should be thinking about and acting towards the man whose ring she wore.

“Then shall we go?” Mic said, holding out his arm Mac. She hesitated for so brief a moment before hooking her arm around his that Chloe almost thought she’d imagined it. Almost.

Oh, God, Mac, Chloe thought as she left the apartment, lagging just a few steps behind Mac and Mic as they headed for the elevator. Why are you torturing yourself like this?

~*~*~*~

ONE HOUR LATER
LE TOURS RESTAURANT

Chloe looked over the menu in her hands, barely concealing her apprehension. She couldn’t find a single dish that sounded familiar or like something she would even think about eating. She would have been more at home chowing down with Mac at Beltway Burgers, not playing dress up in some swanky French restaurant. She leaned over towards Mac, who was intently studying her own menu while taking a breather from Mic’s overly affectionate attentions. “What am I supposed to order off this thing?” she asked in a whisper.

“How about this?” Mac suggested, pointing to an item. “It’s basically steak.”

“The name of the dish doesn’t sound like steak,” she muttered, glancing at Mic over the top of her menu. He’d set his menu back on the table, apparently having already decided what he was getting and reached for Mac’s hand, fiddling with her engagement ring. Mac pulled her hand away to flip the page in her menu and Chloe smiled, lifting her menu a little higher to hide the expression.

“Why don’t I just order for you?” Mac said, hoping to avoid a scene.

Chloe shrugged, definitely not caring. At least she knew she could trust Mac to order something that she wouldn’t mind eating. But there was no way it would match the fast food they would have picked up at the zoo. “I was really looking forward to the zoo,” she whispered.

Mac understood Chloe’s frustration, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. She could at least grant Mic the honor of her presence at his surprise lunch date, especially after …. No, I won’t think about that, she promised herself. She would just have to pretend for a few hours that nothing was wrong, pretend that she wasn't constantly comparing the two men in her life. “Maybe we will have some time tomorrow morning,” she offered in a conciliatory tone, although finding a few hours to while away at the zoo would be near impossible on the day before her wedding. “I was looking forward to it, too.”

Chloe set down her menu, satisfied that Mac knew what to order for her; and after a moment, Mac set hers down as well, an uncomfortable silence settling between the two. If Mic noticed, he appeared unbothered by it. “So, Chloe, when are you flying back home?” Mic asked, trying to draw her out.

“Monday morning,” she replied. Hmmm. Now was the perfect opportunity to have some fun. She paused a beat, then added excitedly, “We were going to fly home Sunday, but Harm got three tickets to the Orioles game Sunday afternoon and invited Dad and me. I think they’re playing the Rangers.”

Mic looked disturbed for a moment at the idea of Chloe spending time with Harm before he managed to cover. She was going to be his bloody sister-in-law. What the hell was she doing spending time with Rabb while she was in town for his wedding to her sister? “The Orioles?” he asked, confusion evident in his tone. He'd see what he could do about the other later.

“You know, baseball,” Chloe said, slightly exasperated. He’s lived in the US for two and a half years and doesn’t know what baseball is, she thought. Amazing.

“Mic doesn’t really follow American sports,” Mac explained, shooting Chloe a look, although Chloe wasn’t sure if she was upset about her tone or the fact that she’d mentioned Harm. Mac seemed to be better about masking her emotions now that Mic was present and seemingly watching her every move. “He’s more into rugby and cricket, although he sometimes watches soccer.”

“I understand your baseball’s a bit like cricket,” he offered. “Maybe if you’re ever in Australia, I can take you sometime.”

“And I heard that matches can last for days,” Chloe countered, ignoring his last suggestion. Why would she ever want to go to Australia, unless …. She shuddered inwardly at the thought that he might someday convince Mac to up and move halfway around the world. Over her dead body, she promised silently, and likely Harm’s as well. The thought mollified her somewhat. “And people think baseball games run long.” She shook her head as she rolled her eyes. Just what were he and Mac supposed to have in common? Mac was just about as true-blue American as they come and this guy didn’t even know what baseball was, not really. And like most foreigners, he probably looked down his nose at football – at least the American variety.

“Harm had mentioned something about the game a few days ago,” Mac said pleasantly to Chloe.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Chloe said, watching Mic’s reaction out of the corner of her eye. “There’s not really any opportunity to attend a major league game up in Vermont. Boston’s a little too far away. That’s one thing I miss about Washington, not being able to go to Baltimore for games. Mac used to take me all the time, not only to Orioles’ games, but also to see the Redskins and Wizards. Harm even took me to a few games before I went to live with my grandparents.” She smiled, remembering a Redskins game she, Harm and Mac had all attended together that first winter she'd known Harm. It had been cold and snowing and the three of them had huddled together in the stands, trying to stay warm.

At Mic’s blank look, she shook herself from her reverie and prompted, “The Washington Redskins is the local football team and the Washington Wizards is the basketball team.”

“Oh,” Mic said, wondering how he could compete with that. He’d never paid much attention to American sports, except to watch the occasional soccer game or when he was someplace like McMurphy's and then the TV tended to be ignored in favor of whatever drink he was nursing or his companion if it was his fiancée, but to his mind, American sports didn't really compare to international sports. Soccer, the closest Americans came to an international sport, wasn't exactly high on the average American's list of favorite sports. He supposed he could learn to show an interest if it meant getting on Chloe’s good side, especially since she seemed to enjoy attending games with Rabb and that definitely didn’t sit well with him. “Maybe you ladies could take me to a game sometime.”

“Maybe,” Chloe replied noncommittally. “Will you excuse me? I need to find the bathroom.”

Mac nodded, pointing towards the other side of the dining room, towards the restrooms. Once Chloe was gone, she steeled herself for Mic’s reaction to the conversation thus far. She didn’t have to wait long.

“Your sister seems to enjoy spending time with Rabb,” he said, trying to remain calm. He knew that he was a sore subject between Mac and himself, but he was willing to be pleasant about the subject. After all, in less than two days, she would be his forever. “And he seems to have taken a great interest in her.”

“Why shouldn’t he?” she asked. “He’s my best friend and he really does like Chloe a lot. She’s fun to be around.”

Mic ignored the last statement now that Chloe wasn't present, choosing to focus on her assertion about Harm. "I thought I was your best friend," he said, almost pouting. That statement definitely did not sit well with him. In his perfect world, Rabb would fade into the woodwork once the wedding ring was on Mac's finger. Rabb's being his wife's best friend didn't enter into the equation, in any way.

Mac looked at him as if he'd suddenly grown two heads. Not realizing that Harm was her best friend was almost like not realizing that she was a Marine. It seemed ridiculous to her, especially after all she and Harm had been through together. But the last thing she wanted was to argue about it, and discussing Harm was a sure-fire way for that to happen. She couldn't help but wonder what Mic would do if the positions were reversed and Harm was the one she was with. She had her doubts that Mic would be as willing to walk away, if it was what she wanted. She shook her head and decided that it was time to change the subject back to Chloe. That was the closest thing to a safe topic that she could think of, with the possible exception of the wedding, and that was one of the last things she wanted to talk about at the present moment.

"Chloe's had a tough life," she pointed out, running a finger along the rim of her water glass. "She hasn't had a lot of people take an interest in her and I'm glad that all my friends at JAG – Harm, Bud, Harriet, Gunny, even the Admiral – are interested in her and how she's doing."

"She doesn't seem to like me all that much," he admitted, hoping Mac could provide some insight into how to win the girl over.

"Mic, she's fourteen and she barely knows you," Mac protested, keeping her tone light. "Teenagers tend to want to talk about things they like and to ignore everything else. You haven't exactly been helping by showing a definite lack of interest in her favorite sports. And to an American teenager, offering to take her to a cricket match probably compares to offering to send her to boarding school. You know what Chloe and I had been planning to do this afternoon? Go to the zoo and probably lunch on burgers and fries. Most young girls aren't going to get too excited about spending the afternoon in a fancy restaurant instead."

Mic thought about that. It had never even occurred to him to ask what Mac and Chloe had been planning to do and to see if he could become a part of their plans. He was trying to build a reputation as a lawyer and most people's image of one included fancy restaurants and luxury homes, not burgers and trips to the zoo. Not that he didn't like those things, but until he established himself and got people to take him seriously as a civilian lawyer, he needed to include some of the finer things in his life. "I invited her to join us because I want to get to know her better," he pointed out. "She's your sister and I want her to like me."

"Mic, don't try so hard," she suggested. "Chloe wants me to be happy, above all else, and if she sees that I'm happy, then she'll come around. It's not going to happen overnight." Especially if I'm not sure if I'm happy, she thought.

Chloe returned just in time to hear the last bit of their conversation. So Mic thought he could win her over by taking her to fancy lunches. She'd laugh at the idea if the situation were less serious. But nothing less than her sister's future happiness was at stake and she knew Mic Brumby was not the man to make her sister happy. She cleared her throat and slid into her seat, managing a smile.

A somewhat uncomfortable silence reigned over the table for most of lunch. Mic went to the opposite extreme, backing off from Chloe completely. He'd tried to talk about the wedding, until Mac had protested that she wanted to relax this afternoon, not stress out over wedding details. He hadn't really cared for the idea, but he'd backed off, partly out of concern for how Chloe would perceive it. As for Mac, he just assumed that it was pre-wedding jitters and that she was as thrilled as he was, even if it didn't quite show as it did with him.

Mac, of course, kept going back and forth in her mind between Harm and Mic, this time going over their respective relationships with her sister. Harm hadn't even had to try to establish a rapport with her – Chloe had automatically taken to him as if they'd known each other for years. Maybe that was part of the problem between Chloe and Mic – she was too close to Harm and too stuck on the idea of Mac and Harm as a couple, preventing her from warming up to Mic. Perhaps Mac had talked about him too much and not enough about Mic.

Chloe, for her part, was satisfied that Mic seemed uncomfortable around her, but she was concerned about Mac's attitude. If she were about to marry someone, she couldn't imagine not wanting to talk about it. Being the romantic that she was, she wouldn't be able to stop talking about it. But Mac had avoided the topic and had even seemed uncomfortable with the subject. She wondered if Mac might not be close to calling the whole thing off. Maybe whatever had happened between her and Harm when she'd seen him yesterday was causing her to question everything. Please, she prayed silently.

"So, Sarah, after we drop Chloe off back at her hotel," Mic said suddenly as he pushed his plate back, finished with his own meal, "why don't you come over to my place? We can discuss our honeymoon, have a late dinner …. " He trailed off, a confident look on his face.

No, Mac thought. I can't do this …. "I'm sorry, Mic," she said, sounding sincere in her apology, even as she was trembling inside. "I already promised Chloe she could spend the night with me tonight. Remember, I'm not getting much of an opportunity to spend time with her this trip."

Mic looked back and forth between the two, from Chloe's hopeful expression to Mac's plea for understanding. He shrugged. In a couple of days, he would have her all to himself for their two-week honeymoon in Australia, then every day and night for the rest of their lives. He could be magnanimous now. "No worries," he said, leaning over to nuzzle against Mac's ear. He lowered his voice so only she could hear. "We're going to be alone for two weeks anyway after a few days."

Mac shivered, but not from anticipation, as Mic assumed. God, how am I supposed to do this? she wondered. It was just one night, but why can't I make myself forget it and pay attention to my fiancé the way he deserves? God help me, why can't I?

~*~*~*~

MAC'S APARTMENT

"Why did you lie to him?" Chloe asked abruptly, after pulling off her jacket and tossing it on the couch. If there was a time for being obvious, this was it. Her sister, strident defender of truth and justice, had just lied to the man she was planning to marry. There was so much wrong with this relationship, Chloe wasn't really sure where to begin the discussion.

Mac stopped in the process of hanging up her own jacket and spun around to stare at her sister. She didn't even pretend not to know what Chloe was talking about. "Why did you tell Mic that you promised me that I could spend the night?" Chloe pressed on. "We'd never even discussed that. Mac, please tell me what's going on. What happened when you saw Harm?"

"Nothing happened," she protested, the lie not coming as easily to her lips now that she was talking to Chloe instead of Mic. Maybe she suspected that she wouldn't be believed, no matter what she claimed. Or maybe there was something deep inside of her that actually wanted to talk to someone about the thoughts tormenting her. "Harm …. he just wants me to be happy."

"And this is happy?" Chloe protested. "You could barely stand to let BugMe touch you, you lied to avoid spending the night with him, and you're planning to marry the man in a day and a half!"

"I guess I don't have to ask where you learned that word," she said, a bit angry, resolving to have a talk with Harm later about talking about Mic in front of her impressionable sister, not even stopping to think that Chloe's feeling about Mic might actually be pretty close to Harm's. "Mic's a good man – he's kind and takes care of me and he loves me."

"But I've never once heard you say that you love him," Chloe pointed out. "If that had been Harm with us, would you have been so quick to lie to him about not wanting to spend the night to him? Would you flinch every time he came near you? Honestly, I'm surprised Mic didn't notice something was wrong. Or is he so confident that he's won the prize that he doesn't even notice that you are not as into this wedding as he is?"

<i>Just make love to me.</i>

"I am not some prize to be won," Mac protested angrily, even as she admitted to herself that she'd sometimes felt that way – like when Mic had called her his fiancée in People or had told Harm behind her back that they were about to set a date. He’d been flaunting his relationship with her in both cases and it still bothered her to a degree. Getting angry made it easier to drive that other voice from her head, the one asking Harm to make love to her.

"Does he know that?" Chloe asked in a calmer tone. She hated seeing Mac so torn and upset, also noting that Mac hadn't protested her assertion that she wasn't as into the wedding as Mic was. "You said Harm just wants you to be happy and I believe that, knowing everything that I do about all you've done for each other. But what about Mic? How can he push like this when you're not happy? Doesn't he care about your happiness at all or does he just assume that because you're with him, you'll automatically be the happiest woman alive?"

"Chloe, there is so much that you don't know," she said steadily, trying to convince herself as well as Chloe, "about my relationship with Mic, about how I feel about him, even about my relation – I mean, my friendship with Harm. You're making assumptions without having all the facts."

Chloe sat down on the couch, Mac hesitating for a moment before joining her. "Do you remember my first day at JAG, what I'd told Harm?" Chloe asked gently, having caught Mac's slip. So she definitely did consider Harm to be more than a friend. That was good to know.

Mac's told me all about you. In fact, you're all she talks about …. although sometimes it's hard to tell what parts are true and what parts are just – well, you know – her fantasies.

Mac nodded mutely as she remembered Harm's amused look and Chloe's smug one, remembered thinking that she'd wanted Harm to ask her what she'd told Chloe to make her say something like that. Chloe continued, "That didn't just pop out of my mouth. I got that from listening to you talk about him. Arizona, the Appalachian Mountains, Russia, his Distinguished Flying Crosses – you make him seem larger than life and it is so obvious from the way you talk about him how much you love him. And it was even more obvious when I saw how you reacted when he told you he wanted to become a pilot again. You wanted so much to ask him to stay, to ask him not to leave you. I was there, remember?"

"I remember," Mac said softly, smiling weakly. That had been one of the worst days of her life, almost as bad as the day he'd actually walked out of JAG, almost as heartbreaking as a certain summer night under a certain bridge and a certain talk about eternity. "But there's more to this. Harm has his faults. He makes mistakes, sometimes big ones and sometimes it's hard to look past that."

"But you manage to eventually, don't you," Chloe stated, making sure that Mac knew from her tone that this was fact, not a question. "Because he's your best friend and you love him."

"Chloe there's a difference between loving someone, say as a friend, and being in love with someone," Mac explained patiently. "It's not all grand romance and all that stuff in novels. It's about being there for someone, talking care of them …."

"What about that day in the mountains?" Chloe interrupted. "Harm took care of you; he was there for you when you were in trouble. When has Mic ever done something like that for you?"

<i>I'm gonna get you through this. I promise.</i>

"You can't compare the two," Mac countered, even though she’d done the same thing herself earlier. "Mic is a different kind of man. He doesn't get into those types of situations. He's steadier …."

"Mac, you're a feisty, gung-ho, Marine," Chloe cut in again. "You seek out danger probably just as much as Harm does. Please don't tell me that you're looking for steady and stable. You thrive on the excitement of your life. Aren’t you the one who had the brilliant idea of following Harm into Russia not once, but twice? Can you tell me that you would really be satisfied without all the thrills and excitement? Can you tell me that Mic isn't going to have a problem with the more dangerous aspects of your job?"

"He hasn't so far," Mac protested with a laugh. "He even joked once about falling in love with Sheena, Queen of the Jungle."

"But what about after you're married and he expects you to start producing little Brumbys? Is he going to be so thrilled with your life then?" Chloe asked. Somehow, she sensed that Mic was going to expect his wife to spend lots of time at home being the perfect wife and someday the perfect mother. Although Harm would probably turn protective if Mac were expecting his child – what man wouldn't – Chloe suspected that he wouldn't spend all the rest of the time trying to shelter Mac from the big, bad world. He'd be out there in it, right next to her, looking out for her as she looked out for him, unstoppable because they were a team and knew how to work together, both in the courtroom and out of it. And wasn't that what a marriage should be, a team effort?

"That's probably still a ways down the road," Mac said. "We haven't even gotten married yet. A family is probably still a few years away, at least."

"But you've thought about it – a family, I mean?"

<i>Tell you what. Five years from this moment, if neither one of us is in a relationship, we'll go halves on a kid.</i>

"Yes, I've thought about it," she admitted softly, a soft smile appearing on her face. Oh, she’d thought about it. What was it supposed to be – a little boy with her looks and Harm's brains or a daughter with his looks and her brains? Her face fell when she realized that every time she'd imagined her future children, she'd never pictured Mic as their father. After they'd gotten engaged, she'd simply avoided thinking about the eventuality.

"Mac, I love you and, just like Harm, I want you to be happy," Chloe assured her, emphasizing the word 'happy'. "Please think about this long and hard. If you're still not sure, at least postpone for a bit, get your bearings. If Mic really does want you to be happy, then he'll wait. If your happiness is more important to him than anything else, then he'll understand."

"Chloe, it's not that simple …."

"God, Mac, what will it take to get you to realize that you're in no condition to get married, not right now, anyway?" Chloe asked, practically shouting. She held her breath, waiting for Mac to argue the point with her, a bit startled by her outburst.

Instead, Mac looked down at her hands, studying the ring on her left hand. If last night hadn't settled things in her mind – if making love to a man not her fiancée couldn't immediately get her to back away from this wedding – then what could? "I'm not sure that anything can anymore," she whispered, her eyes surprisingly dry. She'd shed all her tears that morning, watching Harm fly away from her, reading his letter. She didn't think that she had any more left to shed.

Hearing the heartbreak evident in her tone, Chloe was instantly contrite. Mac was hurting so much and all she was doing was adding to it. She threw her arms around Mac's shoulders and hugged her tight. "I'm sorry," she said. "I don't want you to be hurt and …."

"It's okay," Mac assured her, returning the hug. "I love you for being so concerned." She pulled back enough so she could look Chloe in the eye. "Maybe you're right, because you're not asking me anything that I haven't already been asking myself."

Chloe stared at her, stunned. For Mac to make an admission like that …. She knew that Mac didn't let other people in easily, not even her, probably not even Harm at times. She knew because she'd been there herself, her sarcasm used as a defense mechanism to prevent others from getting too close. But Mac, Harm and their friends at JAG had all looked past that to the scared little girl who wanted nothing more than to be loved. She knew that there was someone else who wanted nothing more than to be loved, but would it be worth it for Mac to let herself be loved by the wrong man?

~*~*~*~


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