Author's note:

Unfortunately, they're not mine.

I'm a little hesitant on the timeline for this one. Most of my knowledge of JAG comes from fanfiction rather than the show itself, and though I could offer you an overarching storyline I'm not so good with the nitty-gritty details (Was the Admiral at JAG when Harm made Commander, or while he had Mattie?) If someone in the little better-versed in the show would like to give me some timeline feedback, I'd love that. Constructive criticism is always appreciated too. Please read and review :)

Harm heard a knock on his office door and looked up.

"Mac," he said with very little enthusiasm.

"Wow, way to make a girl feel welcome, flyboy," she responded.

"Sorry," his face was pale and she could see the bags under his eyes. "Just not a very good day."

"Would that have anything to do with the chewing out you got from the Admiral after staff call?" She was genuinely sympathetic. The look the Admiral had given Harm this morning was one she'd been on the receiving end of more than once, and she didn't envy him his fate.

"A bit." Harm sighed and rubbed the lines out of his forehead with the heel of one hand. Mac turned back to shut the door, just in case. "Just…I sometimes feel like he's waiting for me to fail. I try my hardest to meet his expectations, get accolades from everyone but him, and then on days like today he flat-out refuses to trust me."

Mac bit her lip and nodded. "I know. I think you get it worse than I do, really." Harm knew how big an admission it was for her to say that she was treated preferentially to him. "Maybe you get it worse than all of us."

"I honestly can't believe he thinks I'm late for work on purpose."

"Is that what this was about?"

"He said, and I quote 'you've been late "by accident"' (he did the air quotations with his fingers) 'three times this week. I refuse to believe this is complete coincidence when it's never happened to you, or anyone else under my command (Mac could hear the heavily implied "in all my years of service") before.' It's like he thinks I hate working here, or something."

"That is pretty harsh."

"It just stings, I suppose. I keep trying to be the person he expects me to be while he stands there waiting for me to fall short so he can call me on it."

"Hey, Harm, I don't think this was falling short. I know the rules, but I also know that none of us meet them all the time. I could argue in court that you're a late person and have plenty of evidence to back it up. You've been late for plenty of your major life events" – a smile touched her face – "without discrimination. And besides, the reasons you've been late this week are…" she paused for dramatic effect "…a car crash you could not possibly have predicted blocking your normal route, Mattie twisting her ankle falling down the stairs on Tuesday morning and you being forced to take her to school rather than getting her to catch the bus like usual, and waking up to a tree branch that had fallen through your windshield so you had to go to the mechanic to get it patched up. If anything, he should be chewing you out for having such bad luck."

Palming his forehead so his eyebrows raised comically, Harm responded without looking at her "I know. But I also know that he doesn't think it's at all acceptable, and I don't really know how to be the person he expects me to be."

"Hey, Harm?"

"Yep?"

"Come out to lunch with me. You need a break."

"Damn right I do," he muttered, and then looked at the stack of papers on the edge of his desk. "Might have to take a raincheck, Marine. Don't want the Admiral's hatred to get any more vociferous. He might risk being unprofessional."

Mac cracked a smile. "No, no buts. You're coming out to lunch with me, flyboy, and that's that. You never know, we might be able to talk through" – she squinted at a file towards the top of the pile – "the Miller deposition… while we're there."

Harm got up, grunting, and had to lean on the edge of the desk for a moment while his head swam.

"You OK, flyboy?" Mac asked, walking over with a look of genuine concern.

"Yep, I think," he said, and his cheeks blew out like he was about to throw up. Judging distances and time with the accuracy of a professional, Mac decided in a split second that he wouldn't have time to get to the men's room and handed him his trash can (already, thankfully, lined) instead. Then she stood behind him, rubbing his back, while he vomited.

When he thought he was safe, he turned to her and gave a bitter smile. "You're a good friend, Mac," he said with all the enthusiasm he could muster. "I'm incredibly lucky to have you."

Looking back at the man standing in front of her, his face slightly green and the bags under his eyes starting to look like someone had punched him, Mac answered honestly "me too, flyboy. Me too." Then a thought struck her. "Harm, I know you've had a tonne on your plate recently. How long has it been since you've eaten?" Unusually, she hadn't seen him eat in the last three days. When he appeared to actually have to think about the answer, Mac thought she'd found the culprit.

"Um…yesterday morning?" he said uncertainly.

"You are definitely coming to lunch with me, flyboy," she said. "We're going to go reeeally slowly, and you're going to make your best effort not to throw up on the way there."

"Deal," said Harm, still looking slightly sick.

Mac got it out of him over noodles that the reason he'd forgotten to eat for so long was that Mattie had stayed over at a friend's house last night, so he hadn't had to cook for her. He'd been so busy looking for the best company to replace his windshield and dealing with the thousands of case files the Admiral had left him to even think about food.

Then, in a cycle any single-minded individual knows well, once he got to thinking about food his stomach was so sore, and the thought of eating made him feel so sick, that he was convinced anything he put down his throat would make him worse. So he didn't eat, and eventually forgot about eating altogether. And now here they were, as he slowly forced noodles down until his body began to accept them – and then finally enjoy the taste.

"Thankyou for realising I needed to eat, Mac," he said. "And sorry for throwing up in front of you."

"Hey, Harm, I've seen worse. And I think you've rubbed my back a few times. At least this wasn't alcohol-related."

Harm nodded gravely, and then, without thinking, said, "you know, we're exactly like an old married couple."

For some reason, it didn't even cross Mac's mind to play it off as a joke. Usually, she would've, making him laugh until both of them forgot about the comment. This time, she just said under her breath "except in the way that matters most." Shocked at what had just come out of her mouth, she reassured herself that Harm probably hadn't heard.

No such luck. "Mac? What did you just say?"

"Nothing, don't worry."

"I'll rephrase. I heard what you just said, what did you mean by it?"

Stuff it. "Just that we are like an old married couple, in every sense but the whole "being together" one."

"Would you like to be?" He watched her face close off slowly. "No, honestly, Mac. I promise no riddles and 100% honesty. Whatever you ask me I will answer truthfully." Her eyes glinted at that, and he wondered whether his more rational mind would regret this later. "Would you like to be with me?"

"Yes. I'm just not sure I can see that working in the real world."

"How can I make it work?"

Although intrigued, Mac shook her head. "Nuh-uh, flyboy, it's my turn to ask a question. You promised 100% honesty, remember."

Harm tried his hardest to hide the fear in his eyes, and, gulping slightly, said "only fair. Go ahead."

Mac smiled. "If you said "I love you" to me right now, would you mean it?" She wasn't sure she'd meant to say that either – it had slipped off her tongue more than anything else – and now she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer.

She was, however, incredibly interested to see whether he delivered on his promise. 100% honesty on this one would be hard for him – it would've been hard for her, and she was usually more open about her feelings – but it would also show a readiness for and commitment to a future with her she'd never seen from him before. If he didn't wriggle out of this like usual she'd know he was really taking this seriously.

I have to prove to her I'm mature enough to do this. "Yes," he said with no trace of irony or uncertainty, paused for a moment to let it sink in, and then, with a pensive expression, shot it back at her. "What about you?"

Still reeling from the implications of that three-letter word, Mac told him the truth just as succinctly. "Yes."

"Good." He looked at the woman sitting in front of him – the one he called his friend, his partner, his rock – and realised he saw her differently now than twenty seconds ago. Wasn't it beautiful how your perception of someone could change with one revelation?

"If, he said, "I decided to leave the Navy to be with you, how would you feel?"

"Upset, that it had come to this, that you had to give up something so important to you to have something else – no doubt just as important, but in a completely different way…worried, that after a while you would start to blame me, because ultimately I would be the reason you left…sad that somehow a part of the person I fell in love with would be lost." She nearly covered her mouth after the last part, realising that despite having intimated it before, she never really said she'd loved him 'till now.

He seemed to sense her fear, reaching for the hand she left on the table. "I love you too," he said, punctuating the words by squeezing her hand. "Just to clear that up."

When she sat in silence for a moment, he prompted; "it's your turn to ask a question."

Honestly, she thought they were too far gone at this point to even care what she said next. She alternated between wanting to float on a cloud (Harmon Rabb loved her! He actually said the words!), and wanting to cry at the impossibility of the whole situation (they were sitting in a restaurant! In uniform! He'd thrown up this morning! What were they going to do about their careers?)

Despite all that, she didn't really expect to say what she did – didn't really expect to expose her deepest insecurities after saying she loved Harmon Rabb in the middle of a crowded Chinese restaurant. "How do you feel about me not being able to have kids?"

"Mac." Harm leant across the table, knowing how important it was to make sure she understood how he felt about this. "I'm not going to lie, I'm upset that you have such a small chance. I've always dreamt of a little girl who looks like you making me dress up her dolls and demanding ice cream. But firstly, 4% is not no chance."

"And secondly, I don't love you any less. Even if it were no chance I wouldn't love you any less. Because it's everything that makes you up that I'm in love with, not the idea of having children with you. You are not some machine I want to have beautiful, smart kids. You are a person I love for your personality, and your dedication, and your ability to be my rock and my support system…I could go on. It's you I love, and it's you I want to raise children with, no matter how we have them…if you want."

Mac breathed out slowly. "Thank you, flyboy."

Then Harm looked at his watch, slapped his face into his hand, and groaned.

Mac was suddenly on edge. "What is it?"

Harm shook his head as if it might turn back time. "We're late."

"Ohmigod," Mac garbled. "I love you" (she enjoyed saying that way too much) "and let's go."

Harm grabbed her hand, squeezed for a long moment, and then dropped it. She stored the feeling away until she would be allowed to hold his hand again, as she had with so many insignificant touches over the years.

Predictably, the Admiral noticed them coming back late and called Harm in. Mac watched him leave and waited in her office for Coates or Tiner to tell her she'd been called in too, but the message didn't come.

Something inside her snapped at that point, and she caught up to Harm in a furious speedwalk as he approached the Admiral's office. "Mac?" he asked, his face a little confused. "Did he call you in too?"

"No," she said through gritted teeth, "but I will not let you take all the blame."

"Mac," he started, took one look at her face, and realised it was pointless trying to reason with her. Instead all he asked was "are you sure?"

"Damn right I'm sure, flyboy," she said, teeth still stuck together.

She was sure she heard him say "that's my ninja-girl" under his breath.

Harm knocked on the Admiral's door. "Commander Rabb reporting as ordered, Sir."

"Come in," the Admiral said, his voice warning of impending doom.

Mac walked through the door beside him, head held high, and stood at attention.

The Admiral got up from his desk and walked up to her, as if to conduct a uniform inspection. "I don't remember calling you in, Colonel Mackenzie," he said slowly. Something in his tone warned her to reconsider her actions because they would have consequences. Something in her told him to shut up.

"You didn't, Sir," she said, still at attention.

"Then why are you here?"

"I was late too, Sir, and I'm part of the reason Commander Rabb was."

"Your…ahem….initiative is admirable, I suppose." He quirked one eyebrow. "You may leave now."

"No Sir."

"Why not, Colonel Mackenzie?" There was a low growl in his voice.

"With all due respect, Sir, I will not allow you to lay all the blame for this one on the Commander."

"And why do you think I would do that, Colonel?"

"Because, Sir, that's exactly what you've done this past week."

"Are you saying," his mouth opened incredibly wide as he raised his voice, and there was barely-suppressed rage in the set of his features, "that Commander Rabb's lateness was not his fault?"

"More or less, Sir."

"EXPLAIN YOURSELF, COLONEL!" the Admiral was right up in Mac's face now, and she realised how much her back hurt as she stood at attention – which made her think of how much Harm was probably struggling.

"Sir…on Monday a car was totalled on Harm's normal route to work. You could perhaps blame him for not allowing enough cushioning time into his normal window, but it certainly wasn't something he could have predicted. On Tuesday, just before he needed to leave for work, Mattie fell down the stairs and twisted her ankle. He had to take her to school rather than getting her to catch the bus, and so he was late. On Thursday a branch fell through the windshield of his car overnight, and he only realised when he left the house to go to work. He had to take it past the mechanic's to get it patched up in order to drive it safely."

"So you're telling me that none of the times the Commander has been late to work this week have actually been his fault?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Well clearly I have different standards to you, Colonel, but perhaps I was a little harsh on the Commander." He stared, flinty-eyed, at Harm's stoic posture. Mac couldn't help thinking he was being unnecessarily cruel, given he knew Harm's history of rough ejections. "At ease," he finally said, and Harm breathed out as both he and Mac relaxed their posture.

"So Colonel," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "please do explain why the lateness today was your fault."

"Yes Sir," Mac said. "Harm's been so busy with the reasons he was late to work this week, and all the extra files you've given him that he forgot to eat." The Admiral's gaze seemed to soften a touch, but not to any level detectable by an outsider.

"I guessed that might be the reason he threw up this morning, so I forced him to come out for lunch with me." (So she was altering the story a little. So sue her.)

"When we were there, I encouraged him to talk about…our relationship." She looked at Harm out of the corner of her eye, praying he would still talk to her after this. They were going to have to bring it up with the Admiral sometime, and at least today they would be in it together.

"There were some revelations made, and…it was a bit emotional. We lost track of time."

"So, Colonel…" the Admiral drawled. "Can I expect a change of status in the near future?"

Mac bit her lip ever so slightly. "Probably, Sir."

"Probably?" He spat the word out like rancid meat.

"Yes, Sir."

"And would you confirm that for me, Commander?"

"Yes, Sir."

"You and the Colonel will be involved in a romantic relationship in the near future?" Mac was confused…there was something in his voice….was it – a smile?

"That's correct, Sir." Harm was still looking at the Admiral with a stern expression, but the corner of his mouth quirked upwards suddenly at that declaration. As soon as Mac saw it, the veil of professionalism slipped back over his features and it was gone.

"About damn time," the Admiral said, grinning wildly. He patted both of them on the shoulder. "Congratulations to the both of you. I'm glad you got over your hang-ups and your past, because we've all been rooting for you."

He turned, walking toward the door. "I think it's been a big day, for all of us. You've got twenty minutes in here, and you can both secure at four. I'll make sure no-one bothers you." He turned to walk toward the door.

"Oh, and, Commander? I'm sorry I've been so harsh on you this week. The tension between you two was getting unbearable, and you always realise how much you mean to each other when someone has to support and protect the other. I had to give you a common enemy. That's all it came down to." He looked at Mac and Harm's hands, quietly touching in solidarity. "And if someone had to take one for the team, I'm very glad it was me. Congratulations, people."

Before he'd quite got out the door, he turned once more. "Mac, make sure he eats," he said and closed the door firmly behind him.

Mac turned to Harm. "I think that is the oddest thing I have ever been part of."

"Do you think the whole office knows about this?" he returned.

"I don't know if I really care," she said, her face turned up to his. "The Admiral said we have twenty minutes in here and then only a couple of hours more work to do before we can head home – and I haven't been able to kiss the man I love since I told him."

Harm reached up to touch her cheek, a shiver running down his spine at the sight of her seductive half-smile. "Oh, I think we can remedy that," he said slowly.

"Good," said Mac, clearly past the point of subtlety, and pulled his head down to hers.