Disclamer: Not mine, Bellisario's

I almost had you killed

Evening
Harm's loft
Mac paced the room. "I feel so stupid and guilty. I almost had you killed. How can I ever make up for it?"
"You could marry me." He said it casually, like it was no big deal. Like he was asking her whether she wanted water or iced tea with her dinner.
"Marry you?"
"Yes, then I would have a right to go after you when you're in trouble."
"Don't joke about it!" Mac spat out.
Harm kept silent, knowing talking back would only serve to infuriate her more, but his face spoke volumes. In fact, he was dead serious, something he wasn't ready to share with her. He wanted her to be his, his wife. Not only to have the right go after her and protect her, he would do that anyway but simple because he loved her. If only he could finds the courage to tell her.

Night
Mac's apartment
That night sleep wouldn't come. She was still too wound up. In her mind she replayed the events of the day. First that morning. His warning not to trust the witness. Her waving it away. After all, it was only a witness, not a suspect. She had grabbed her briefcase, taken her gun and had walked away. Not knowing it might have been the last time she saw him. If he hadn't come after her, that is.
She remembered approaching the witness's door. The man had let her in, showed her a chair. There had been no warming sign. One moment her witness had been fully cooperating, the next he was waving a gun and threatening to shoot her and anyone coming too close. Lying on the floor she had tried to reach for her gun but a bullet, just inches away from her head, made it clear how bad an idea that was. The man had become increasingly erratic, ranting till he fumed with rage. Once in a while he shot at random, at the furniture, the fireplace – the bullet ricocheted and almost hit him – and the mirror, causing it to break in a thousand pieces. Which was enough to evoke another rant about seven years of misfortune.
Outside the police had gathered. The voice of a mediator talking through a bullhorn had distracted the man long enough for another person to slip into the house from the back. Her eyes had widened in shock when she saw who it was. Harm!
His shot in the witness' shoulder had disarmed the man and suddenly the police was everywhere. The rest of the afternoon she had spent in the precinct, giving a statement. As was Harm, taking full responsibility for his actions, intervening in a hostage situation. He hadn't told her how he had managed to dodge the police cordon, she realized.
After both of them had been dismissed he had taken her with him to his house, announcing he was going to cook for her. She had kept it together till he cleared away the dishes.

Mac threw off the cover. Sleep wasn't to come. She better make herself a glass of hot milk, preferable with a dollop of honey.
Sitting in her living, only illuminated by the light of the street lanterns, she went over the evening's events. First her rant. She had felt so guilty, and angry, both at herself for not listening to his warning and not being more careful as at him for the risks he had taken. If the man had heard him, or hadn't been distracted, Harm would have been shot the moment he appeared in the doorway. And when she tried to tell Harm, he could only joke about it. Making her feel an even bigger fool.
In her mind she played the scene once more. Harm was placing the dishes in the dishwasher. She was pacing the living, throwing angry looks at his bending back. She could hear herself ask "How can I ever make up for it?" And his answer "You could marry me." He didn't even look at her, she thought, her anger flaring up once more.
But he did look at me, she realized, a moment later, when he awaited her answer. He had watched her, intensely. Hopeful?
Mac bit her lower lip remembering her reaction. Disbelieve, total disbelieve. She hadn't taken him serious whatsoever.
He hadn't reacted. Not verbally, that is. Only now she realized that for a short moment his face had betrayed him. The quiver of a muscle, the flash of hurt that had crossed his face before he turned again to put the cutlery in the designated container and close the dishwasher.
She took a shivering breath. What if it hadn't been a joke? What if he had meant it? D*mn, if only that guy wasn't that good in hiding his feelings.
Placing the half empty mug on the coffee table she hid her head in her hands. What if she had rejected the proposal of the man she had loved for years? Knowing Harm it wasn't likely he was to repeat that proposal any time soon. If ever. She moaned in despair.
Suddenly she jumped to her feet. She had to set this right. She had to know. Now!

At the other end of town Harm had trouble to fall a sleep as well. He had been reading for a while, had poured himself a glass of whiskey, half of it still sitting on the breakfast bar. He could kick himself for the clumsy way he had asked her. Like she was ever to believe he had meant it. And tomorrow they had to face each other again. Plus he had to face the Admiral who for sure had some things to say about his action.
Just when he was about to doze off a sound jerked him out of his semiconscious state. It took some time, and a repeat of the noise, to recognize it: someone was knocking on the door. With a suppressed grunt he rose, walked to the door and, not bothering to look through the peephole, jacked it open.
Mac, who was just to knock for the third time, could not stop the motion and her fist landed on his bare chest and stayed there.
They stood and stared for a long time. Finally Harm put a step back and mutely Mac followed him inside.
There was more standing ands staring till finally Mac managed to whisper "Did you mean it?" She barely recognized her own voice.
For a second Harm thought of denying it. After all, he wasn't in for another harsh rejection. But then he straightened himself. Hadn't he wished for the guts to tell her, only hours before?
"Yes," he said.
"Why?"
"Because I love you. Because I want you to be mine!" His nervousness made him all but growl but when he saw her cringe he was quick to grab her hands and hold them against his chest.
"Sarah, I did mean it. I do mean it. I love you."
She could only look at him, in shock. Words she had longed to hear and never thought she actually would hear.
"I know I suck in talking about my feelings, but I love you." Harm didn't know what else to say so he repeated his earlier words, praying she would react. Would, at least, say something.
But she didn't; instead she raised her hand to tentatively touch his face. Her fingers slid over his cheek, his chin. Her second hand joined the first. Like she had to memorize his face by feel they wandered from his hair to his ears, his cheekbones. Vaguely he remembered he should have shaved before going to bed.
Finally she heaved a deep sigh.
"You do?"
Now he slowly pulled her into his arms, holding her close but not too tight.
"Yes, I do. I love you, Sarah, I love you so much."
She melted against him.
"I love you, too. I have done for so long and I never thought …"
He cut her short with a tender kiss.
"I love you," he repeated, to drive the message home.
She wrapped her arms around his neck.
"I love you, too," she said. "Yes, I want to marry you."
She felt him tremble and his arms tightened around her.
"My love. My love forever."
Suddenly the events of the day got the better of her. All adrenaline seeping away, her knees buckled and she all but fainted with exhaustion. Harm felt her sag and was quick to scoop her up and carry her to the bedroom where he carefully placed her on the bed.
"You're not going anywhere," he declared. "In this state you're a danger to yourself and to other traffickers. And what's more, I want you with me." He swallowed. "I don't want to wake up tomorrow and find it's all a dream."
Mac reached up to caress his cheek.
"I want to stay, too. For all the same reasons, most of all the last one."
He gave her a warm smile and went to lock the door again. Mac quickly shed her cloths and, clad only in her panties and tank top, slipped under the cover. Seconds later Harm joined her and pulled her in his arms. He pressed a kiss on her head.
"I love you."
"Love you, too." Mac hardly managed to utter the words and then she was fast asleep.

When she opened her eyes the next morning she found Harm propped on one elbow looking at her. She smiled shyly.
"Hey."
"Hey yourself."
They stared at each other; neither knew how to proceed until Harm leaned in and kissed her. One kiss led to another and soon there was nothing on the world for them except each other. Their making out was interrupted by the beep-beep-beep of the alarm clock. Panting Harm rolled over and silenced the annoying thing.
"I want this, I want you. Very much. But when we make love for the first time I want us to take our time. No alarm clock, no work." He grimaced. "And no Admiral waiting to chew us out."
"I want that, too," Mac smiled. "And you're right; we should stop here and get ready for work. I have to check whether I have my sea bag in my trunk, otherwise I have to drive by my apartment first."
Harm nodded but was not willing to let her go yet.
"What kind of ring do you want?"
"I'm not going to negotiate," Mac sighed. "I just want your ring. Correction, I just want you. And your love."
"Those you have," Harm vowed. "For ever and a day." He gave her another quick kiss but then he swung his legs out of the bed, grabbing his pants. "Where is your car key? I'll check your trunk."
Luck was with them, the trunk contained the desired bag, holding toiletries and a clean uniform, including shoes.
They made it in time to the office.

The debriefing by the Admiral was every inch as bad as they had expected. Both escaped a degradation, barely, and would be on desk duty for the next month.
When the Admiral had finished his reprimand he asked "Anything more?"
"Yes, Sir," Harm blurted out. "We are engaged."
It was not often the Admiral was shocked into silence but this was one of those occasions.
"You are WHAT?"
"We are engaged, Sir," Harm repeated nervously. After all, this was a time as good as any to tell.
"When the h*ck did that happen?"
"Yesterday evening, Sir." Harm wasn't not going to tell Mac had come to him in the middle of the night.
"Oh," was the only thing his superior said. "Well, dismissed."
Harm and Mac came to attention and left the room, leaving a bewildered CO, who now had to deal with fraternization rules, behind. At least, he thought with a wry smile, they had the decency to tell him straight away.
With a sigh Chegwidden grabbed for the book of military laws. Let's see what leeway he had.

The end