Authors Note:

Okay, so I curse my friend who got me addicted to this show, but I admit to all in fanfic land that I was able to watch all 10 years in the span of two months... yes, two months. I feel in love with Sarah MacKenzie and Harmon Rabb... their romance was just too much for me to not write about. Sorry to all the OTH people out there, but Harm and Mac are totally rivaling Leyton in my book.

On that note... here goes the fic, and it really is something that was inspired by the song "The Call" by Regina Spektor. I suggest you all go to youTube or iTunes and bust it out because it is BEAUTIFUL! So here goes my first JAG fic... hope someone likes it...

It started out as a feeling, which then grew into a hope

Which then turned into a quiet thought.

Which then turned into a quiet word.

I couldn't tell you the moment that I fell in love with her. It was like one minute she was arguing a case against me, and the next I knew that she'd be there forever. It just started as a feeling that I couldn't explain. She'd walk into the room and my eyes were drawn in her direction immediately. I hung onto every word she said, especially when she'd dress me down in that Marine way she always claims as superior.

Then we had this rollercoaster of a partnership. It couldn't even be considered a partnership really, because that wasn't ever given to us as an official title. We thought of it that way though, even when we were opposing council. JAG aside, we had traveled to the ends of the earth for each other. We risked our lives for each other. We risked supposed happiness for each other. At one point she was marrying another man. Even though the engagement broke off, I still want to kill the man who would be her husband. It was because of me though, indirectly.

Any relationship I ever started ultimately came to an end because of Mac. When I changed back to flying, Jordan broke it off… but I was more concerned with what Mac was thinking about the whole situation. It was like we had this hold on each other that couldn't be taken away, no matter how much either of us tried to.

Again though, I don't know when these thoughts changed from simple adoration to this one word.

Love.

It was thrown in my direction many times with regards to Mac. Some would outwardly ask me if I was in love with her. While others skirted around the idea of it. I don't think that I was ever able to give a definite answer to anyone. I just skirted right back, and they would look on knowingly. When it was asked, I never outright denied it. I couldn't ever bring myself to deny it.

Love.

I could never tell her. I've thought it a million times. I just couldn't bring myself to say it out loud. It would ruin something. Maybe it would take our friendship away. Maybe it would throw the careers we both love away. Maybe I'm a bigger coward than my wings would like to admit. Four letters were what made me come undone. Four letters is what led me here.

When I joined the Navy it was to be a fighter pilot. That was what I signed on for. Then, because of what I thought was night blindness, I couldn't do it anymore.

Years later when my eyes were fixed, I couldn't help but return to flight status. I remember trying to explain it all to Mac. I thought she would be the one who understood. The day I left, we stood in my office and she told me that she had so many things to say to me, but she couldn't find the words.

I hoped that she could now. After all we had been through, I hoped that she could find the words and I could say them back.

And then that word grew louder and louder until it was a battle cry.

The knock startled me away from my thoughts. Not needing to look at the clock, I knew that it was late to be getting any kind of visitor. That fact alone made me know that it was Harm.

When I open the door, the look he gives back to me is something that I don't recognize. Maybe from a distant past I have seen some semblance, but nothing like what I see now. It was as if a part of him was broken, not wanting to admit something to himself.

"What is it?" I say, leading him inside.

He takes his coat off, laying it across the chair near my door, and moves to sit down on the couch before even saying a hello.

"We've got to talk."

"I can see that." I say, sitting down across from him with concern etching my features, "what's wrong."

"I just got a call."

"About…" I say, trying to lead him into whatever it is that has him thrown for a loop.

"I've been selected for something… it's a pilot's gig."

"Okay… you are a pilot. Why is this something that seems to have rattled you?"

"They're sending me overseas to fight."

"What do you mean to fight?"

"There's talk about trying to get some headway in this war, flying some missions as well as doing some time in country. It's all pretty hush hush. I don't think I should even be telling you any of this."

"Why you?" I say, letting the concern grow a bit more as I take in what he's saying.

"I have a history of being…. Adventurous when put into intense situations… the recommendation came from high up. I'm thinking some of it was CIA."

"Harm…"

"I know, but they're orders, Mac."

I stand now, pacing the length of my small living room. Remembering the time he spent as CIA wasn't helping the situation much, leaving me even more worried than when he came to the door in the first place. There had been so many moments together and apart where I feared for his life, watching him go off to do something that he may not come back from.

"How long?"

"I don't know." He says, too fast to pass for the truth.

"Flyboy, you and I have been through too much for you to start lying to me now…"

He just looks at me for a few moments, as if the longer he waited the better the answer was going to be, "Six months to a year."

I can feel the color drain from my face as he says it.

"No…" it comes out as a whisper.

"Mac." He says, almost rushing to my side before I put up my hands, telling him he needs to back off. "Sarah, talk to me."

"No." I say, walking the short distance to my bedroom and locking the door behind me. I know it was a weak response to the life changing news, but I couldn't do any more than that.

I had spent the hour or so before Harm had even knocked, thinking about our situation. We had finally started getting back to how things were before Paraguay and before the CIA. I was forced to go back to my thoughts from before, working through each detail of our relationship. From our meeting all the way to those short weeks ago when he told me he was ready when I was to make good on a deal we made years ago.

It isn't as if we haven't been apart for long stretches at a time. That isn't it. It was just that he and I had never been at the same place at the same time. Finally, I thought that we were getting there. I thought that maybe we were on our way towards something more than what we had.

I spend another hour allowing myself to go through the grieving process, acting as if I had already lost him. He wasn't even mine to lose. We never made those declarations, we never acted on anything that others have said we should.

When all is said and done, it is three in the morning, and I still haven't slept a wink. The insomnia that has plagued me for years has given me the ability to function on little to no sleep anyways, so I figure that I might as well make good on the few hours I have before the day really begins.

When I'm in the kitchen grabbing a water, I hear the quiet voice coming from the other room, "Sarah."

Of course he didn't leave. When I asked him if he would always be there once, he told me he would. Why would today be any different?

"How are you still here?"

"You think I was just going to leave after that? You needed processing time."

"Harm, I don't want to talk about this." I say, not turning to face him yet.

"Mac, I've got two weeks before I'm off doing God knows what… I need you to talk to me!" he says, starting to raise his voice.

I turn then, absolutely infuriated by his words for some reason beyond me, "Why did you even come here? Huh? You make all these decisions without me anyways. Hell, Harm you didn't even tell me when you got your vision fixed to fly again anyways. Maybe if I had talked you out of it, we wouldn't be in this situation. You're a selfish bastard, you know that?"

"Oh, I'm selfish! I got the call and I drove here immediately!"

"You don't owe me that!" I scream, knowing that he does, but not being willing to admit it to myself.

"Yes, I do! Have the last nine years meant nothing to you?"

"Of course they have, but it doesn't work like that Harm."

"Really? Enlighten me then, Colonel! How does it work?"

"I'm not yours!"

"What? Mac…."

"You and I are nothing to each other. What title do we have, huh? Best friends? Partners? Work buddies?"

Lies. They're lies the second they leave my lips. I just want to hurt him. If he's leaving, I just want to hurt him. I want him to realize that we really aren't anything. Maybe I want to convince myself that we really aren't anything.

"We're more than that…"

"I don't know that!" I say, finally getting at the heart of the matter.

I hear myself picking this fight, half trying to convince him that I don't see it, and half wanting him to finally make some huge declaration that I don't even think I'm ready for.

"Why do you need a title for what we are? Why does it even matter!" he says, raising his voice again to match the screaming that I started us back into.

That is my breaking point. The next words tear through me, and I cry out like they are the only words keeping me alive in this moment.

"Because I'm in love with you! You know it… and I think maybe I know it too, but we keep side stepping each other, and now it's too late."

"Why?"

"Two weeks."

"You're acting like it's a horrifying deadline, Mac."

"Can you tell me you're coming back?"

He sits down again, and I know that he can't answer the question.

"Tell me this… if two weeks was all we had, would anything change?"

I open my mouth to say something, but he cuts me off again, "—I mean, if we had the rest of our lives, would it change how we felt? No. It wouldn't. I've loved you for the past nine years, and I'll love you until I'm gone. That may be in a month, or it could be in another fifty years. We don't know. So, whether we've got two weeks, or the rest of our lives… does that change anything?"

Part of me stops then… realizing what he just shared with me, what he just admitted. "You've never said it. You've never said the words before"

"I know."

"Why?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Marine."

I let the smile come over me, finally noticing the tears that had fallen down my cheeks during his confession. "It would be so hard."

"I don't think that you and I have ever made anything easy, Mac."

I shake my head at that, knowing that he is speaking the truth. Then he's standing next to me, and I can feel the war storming in my body. The sparks that have always been there at the slightest touch. The catch in my breath when I think for a split second that he might kiss me.

When he does, I know it's over. The last time we shared a kiss like that, I was getting ready to marry another man. I knew then that it couldn't go any further. Now, there is nothing holding us back. No excuses to stop.

We can never go back.

I'll come back when you call me.

No need to say goodbye.

"Explain this…" I say, placing kisses along the exposed shoulder in front of me.

"What?" she says, smiling up at me.

"Why haven't we been doing this the whole time? I mean, we are pretty good at this."

I deserve the smack that comes my way from that comment. "Yeah, well, now it's the morning after. What are we thinking?"

"Do you still love me?"

"Yes." She says without hesitation.

"Good, because I still love you."

"And…"

I get frustrated, because I know that she's just fishing for a deeper conversation, a conversation we didn't have when we talked during the Admiral's dining out. "Hell, Mac, I'd take you down to city hall right now if you'd let me."

After a moment of what looks like consideration, she finally speaks. "I'm pretty sure they're closed on Saturdays…"

"Hmmm… Monday?" I say, half jokingly, playing along with her.

"Only if you're willing."

My eyebrows go up, and I honestly can't tell if she's serious or joking.

"You're trying to figure out if I'm joking aren't you?"

"uh huh…"

She smiles and all is forgotten for another few minutes, letting ourselves get lost again.

"Would it be crazy?"

"The way I see it, we've been practically engaged for almost nine years."

"Yeah, except for when I was engaged to another man for over a year."

"Were you really though?" I ask her, resulting in a sigh from the woman I know too well.

"No. I think part of me was waiting for you to come back and stop the wedding. I wanted you to do what I didn't have the guts to do in the end, you know?"

"You've never told me that."

"You never really asked."

"That's always been the problem hasn't it? I've been dodging us all along."

"It isn't just you. I've dodged too. Didn't you tell me that I made complicated things simple?"

"And I make simple things complicated…."

"I play that night in my head over and over. Not just the porch though, it was when we went back in. The Admiral showed us a cake and we were talking about Mic and I being forever. Then your hand touched mine and it was like all the breath went out of my lungs at once. I knew that it was over."

"I remember… and you do know that you and I are always going to be complicated, right?"

"And why is that?"

I roll back onto my side, laying out next to her and staring at the ceiling. I know that if we were to do this, it would be every bit as perfect as I've always thought it would be. Maybe we don't really want to jump.

"So…" I say, trying to figure out what she's thinking over next to me.

"Monday, we play hookie."

"Seriously?"

"I'll call it in… say we got food poisoning on Sunday night."

"…and we get married?"

"Only if you're asking, Flyboy."

"Consider yourself asked, Marine."

She giggles and we are forced to spend the rest of the day in her bedroom. We leave for food and showers, but end up right back where we started the day every time.

The next two days go by in a blur, and we're suddenly sitting in uncomfortable chairs waiting to be called by the person who is going to make us man and wife. We've gone back and forth about it all weekend, fighting really. Maybe it would be enough to be engaged, but in the end we agreed that it was all or nothing simply because it was us.

When the judge asks about rings, Mac turns to me with wide eyes, "We don't have rings! We're getting married and we don't have rings!"

"We can do the ceremony without rings ma'am" the judge tells her, until I interrupt, holding out a box for her examination.

"Harm?"

"Open it."

Her hand goes to her mouth in a gasp before she looks up at me.

"They were my grandparent's. My grandmother even told me that it was perfect that I met you, since the inscription would fit perfectly."

She raises an eyebrow before taking the smaller ring out and reading the inscription "To my Sarah… Harm this is too much."

"No, it isn't, which is why I also got you this to match…" I say, pulling out another box, and taking out another ring that nearly matched the wedding bands. "I didn't get to propose with a ring or anything, so… Sarah MacKenzie, will you marry me?"

She looks down at me and accepts the ring and kisses me before we are interrupted by the judge clearing his throat quite loudly.

"Are we ready to proceed?" he asks and we look at each other and smile with a nod.

Vows and rings exchanged, we leave as Mr. and Mrs. Harmon Rabb Jr. Then Mac turns to the practical, talking about paperwork that needs to be filled out and moving that needs to be done. It's a whirlwind of questions and plans before we realize that this is not how you are supposed to spend your Honeymoon.

When the sun finally goes down and we are wrapped in each other, she speaks the words that we have both held in for so long.

"I love you."

"I love you to, Mrs. Rabb."

She smiles and then scrunches her nose up in the cutest of ways, "So, will I be Colonel Rabb now?"

"I think that you would keep your maiden name for work. Harriet did."

"hmmm… it's just strange."

"Strange? You were the one who married me, Mac!" I say, laughing at her as she wraps her arms around me again.

"11 days, 13 hours, and 33 minutes."

"Hmmm…" I say, looking down at my watch, "7 hours, 24 minutes, and 10 seconds"

"It's actually 26 minutes, but who's really counting?"

"Apparently you are."

"We've been married under 8 hours and already I can count until the time we'll be apart in days. I don't think I can do this."

"Mac, we've done this dance before, and we survived."

"You do realize that any time that you and I have ever gone off without the other for some dangerous act, we've rescued each other? Just last year, you resigned from the Navy to come after me."

"You can't come after me this time, Mac."

"I know."

"You call me, and you tell me you need me… and I'll resign. I told you once that I'd always be there, Sarah, and I'm not planning on leaving for good any time soon."

"You don't have control over that, Harm."

"I do."

"Oh really, how?"

"You're forgetting that I've been in love with you for years without saying it. My hope was always in surviving to tell you how I feel. Now I have even more of a reason to come home… we finally said it."

"You'll come back to me?"

"Always."

To be continued...