Title: Interlude

Author: Nan

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em – wish I did.

Spoilers: Missing Scene 'Fair Winds and Following Seas.' The rest is self explanatory.

Mac slipped silently out of Harm's embrace. He was out like a light; dead to the world – making those cute little snoring sounds that she heard when he fell asleep in his office a week ago. She moved noiselessly in the darkened room, scanning the floor for something to wear. Stepping over her discarded pants and blouse, she reached down for a flowered puddle of fabric. Harm's shirt. The one he had been wearing when she interrupted him earlier.

She wrapped the oversized garment around her and closed her eyes for a moment. There was a Harm smell - one part aftershave, one part sweat and the last part was the indescribable aroma that was the man. She completed her outfit with a pair of slightly damp panties and her socks.

Mac wandered through Harm's half dismantled apartment. It was disorienting to see it in such a state. Harm's Union Station apartment had been a fixture; an institution. For as long as she had known him, he had lived here. Now, even that was changing.

There were two piles of boxes. One, items destined for storage in DC. The second were the things he was taking to London.

London! And more to the point – San Diego! She smiled. Despite the kisses, the heated moans, the unbelievable sex and all the talk about trusting fate - nothing had been solved. But somehow, the world was definitely clearer, in a funny sort of way. Amazing how that worked.

She hugged the shirt again and continued to circle the apartment. How could he sleep through this? She, on the other hand, could not sleep. She felt elated, exuberant and down right possessive. Possessive yes. Possessive about Harm. Her man. Mac's man – Harmon Rabb Jr., Flyboy, JAG and pretty much the best looking man in whole US Navy. Her's.

Mac grinned at her silliness.

A flood of women's images downloaded into her active memory. Over the years, she had been forced to watch as Annie, Jordan, Bobbie, Coulter, Catherine plus numerous petty officers, lieutenants, civilians, lawyers, doctors, pilots traipse through Harm's life. All had at least a passing interest in that military officer who now lay sleeping in the next room, mouth open with a trace of delectable drool. Buck-naked.

Was this the same marriage-adverse man who had proposed matrimony without sleeping together first?

She looked over to the metal doorway to Harm's apartment. Her overheated imagination conjured up images of floozies and bimbos trying to invade. She struck a defensive pose in front of the door in preparation of battle against the enemy. This was a marine's job. Hands up, legs braced. She sprang, in best kick boxing form, making a twisting double jab at the air with her socked feet. It was a warning to all women. 'Don't mess with me.' She almost giggled out loud as she landed.

She had tamed the beast, climbed the mountain, and crossed the ocean. He wanted her. HER. She, Colonel, marine, Mac, Ninja girl, Sarah. She felt like racing across the silent apartment and jumping on top of his sleeping form. She wanted to shake him awake. To tell him the good news. Had he heard? Harmon Rabb wanted her. He should be the first to know, after all. He was her best friend. After all, she had told him everything else important in her life.

Not only did he want her, he loved her. Wanted to marry her. This was the dream she had never let herself dream. It was just so unlikely, improbable. What had she told McCool? Her chances were low. Really low. 4 low. So low, even sexually inept Panda bears had a better chance than Mac and Harm. It was at that low point of self realization that she gave up her subscription to the National Zoo.

She shadow boxed again; this time jabbing the air with a quick one, two, three punch. She had beaten the odds.

"Mac?"

It was Harm. She stopped dead and whirled around. There he was, dressed only in regulation boxers, standing by the entrance to the bedroom. One eyebrow was higher than the other as he suppressed a quizzical smile. She felt her heart leap at the sight of him.

"Interesting choice of activity, all things considered." he said.

"All things considered?" she countered weakly.

He walked over to the fridge and reached inside for a bottle of water. "Well, some people have a cigarette after sex. You kick box."

"Are you complaining?" she asked, leaning on the kitchen island and admiring the muscular shape of his broad shoulders.

She watched with satisfaction as his eyes moved downward, enjoying the sight of her breasts through the gapping front of the large shirt as she leaned forward. His nostrils flared slightly.

Time to start flirting with everything she had. Now the attraction between them was out in the open, it was all out war. And this was one battle she was going to win. Over and over and over again.

Harm grinned at as he reached out and grabbed her arm, bringing her around the counter and into his embrace. She nestled in and her pulse picked up, once again.

"You're making it hard to concentrate," he said, voice muffled as his face was buried in her hair.

"That depends," she whispered.

"On what?"

"On what you want to concentrate." Mac said, nuzzling his neck.

"We can't do this all day," Harm closed his eyes, enjoying her ministrations.

"I could," she replied.

He moaned slightly but persisted. "You, me – we have to decide. Where to live."

Mac continued to focus on his neck by placing small, light kisses around the nape. "I've decided. We'll both go to London."

"London? That means…" he started but couldn't finish. Mac too, was finding it hard to think.

"That means I resign. I'm okay with that," she said. "I decided."

He pushed her away slightly and looked into her eyes. "You decided? Well, how about this? San Diego is close to my parents. Mattie could continue her treatment in the US. And I could fly reserve out of Miramar."

"It's my turn," argued Mac, going back to his neck. She traced her tongue across his collar bone.

"Your turn to do what?"

"You resigned to save me in Paraguay. Now it's my turn," she said patiently and slowly. Really, he could be so obtuse at times. "Harm, you are going to be Force Judge Advocate in Europe. I don't want you to give that up."

"Well, maybe I don't want you to give up command of joint forces legal services in San Diego. You have a legitimate shot at the first female Judge Advocate General." Harm argued in his courtroom voice.

"So do you!"

"First female Judge Advocate General?" he smiled.

"You know what I mean." Mac sighed. The mood was starting pass. They were arguing again. First, neither wanted to resign. Now both did. Maybe Chegwidden was right. They just liked to disagree.

She looked down and leaned her forehead against his chest. "I don't want to lose you. I'll resign if I have to."

She felt his forefinger on her chin, propelling her face upward. She found herself looking reluctantly into his beautiful blue eyes. In a quiet voice, Harm said, "Now that I have you, I'm never going to lose you. Ever. Okay? And that doesn't mean you have to resign."

"Okay," she said. "Now what do we do?"

"How about a coin toss?" he asked.

"A what?"

"Toss a coin. Heads or tails. Who ever wins; that's where we will go. Okay?" He looked earnest.

"Is this your idea of fate?" she smiled.

"Sure, it is. What do you say?"

"Okay." Mac agreed heavy hearted. Either choice, it was going to be painful. Maybe this was the only way. "Are we going to do it right now?"

Harm pushed her to arms length and paused. They were standing together, half naked in his half packed apartment. "No," he said. "Not like this." Mac realized he was right. For a decision as big as this, to do it here seemed a little, well frivolous.

"Trust me," he said and reached for the phone on the counter.

Mac thought to herself, 'With my life.' She smiled at him, wondering what he was up to.

He was already talking into the receiver. "Bud? How's everything?"

He was talking to the Roberts. She listened to the one sided conversation.

"I have a favour to ask, Bud. Could you and Harriet come to uh, McMurphy's in about an hour?"

McMurphy's was perfect, thought Mac. None of the other assorted bars and restaurants within a stone's throw of JAG held the memories of McMurphy's. She loved that old bar.

Harm continued. "I need you to perform a little ceremony for Mac and myself. A coin toss to decide which one of us resigns our commission."

Mac watched as Harm smiled at receiver in his hand. Bud was asking the obvious question. "Mac and I are getting married. But we have this career issue to sort out first. Will you come?"

Whatever Bud said at that point must have been special. Harm was still grinning as he put down the phone a few minutes later. He turned to her and said, "I'm going to call Sturgis and Coates, too. I'd like them there too."

Mac nodded. "You think General Cresswell would come? I mean – this is ultimately going to affect him. He'll need to find a replacement, one way or the other."

"Sounds like a job for the Petty Officer. I'll ask her."

By the time Harm finished phoning their friends; Mac had dressed back into attire suitable for public viewing. She walked over to Harm and put her arms around his waist, resting her head on his broad back. "You ready for this, flyboy?" she asked, paraphrasing the question she had asked a couple of days ago.

He shinned around to face her without breaking the embrace. As she looked up, she was surprised to see his eyes were shiny. If she didn't know better, she would think he had been crying. Not crying. Misting up, maybe. Sentimental for sure. She hugged him again.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

He held on tight. "Talking to Bud, Coates, Sturgis – it made it seem so real," he admitted. "I like real."

"I like real, too," she said. It was going to be more than just real. It was going to be special. She had been doing some planning of her own. She thought about a deep red dress she bought a couple of months ago. It hugged her in all the right places and had a side slit that was dangerous. Harm would be putty in her hands.

She thought of one additional detail to make the evening extraordinary. Something she had always dreamed about. Literally. Something every flyboy should wear.

"Harm," she said breaking away from his arms. "I need to go now. I'll be at McMurphy's in an hour. Okay?"

"Okay," he said.

"One more thing," she said, as she was exiting out his door. "Did I ever tell you how much I like dress whites and gold wings? Even better - mess dress and gold wings."

His answering grin was as wide as the Potomac River and his eyes just as blue. She smiled back.