It's gonna be a cold Christmas

Washington, Beltway
24th December
Around 16.30 hours
It's gonna be a cold, cold Christmas without you
Dreaming of those warm, warm, lazy summer days
It's gonna be a long and lonely Christmas without you
Missing you, my darling, in oh so many ways

Once more the refrain sounded and Mac blinked furiously. Crying and driving were not a good combination and she didn't want to end in the crash barrier or worse. This song rendered her feelings exactly. He was not going to be there with Christmas. Harm was away, on an extended TAD, God knew where. It had been the Sunday after Thanksgiving – she just had started to decorate the tree – that he had called and told. There had been no time to see each other; after he had terminated the call he had driven to Dulles Airport and taken a flight to … It remained classified, although she suspected he was on board a ship somewhere in the Mediterranean, since both in former Yugoslavia in the Middle East conflicts had flared up. Anyway, it was a dangerous area and from the two short messages she, or better said, the office had received, he was not only doing a job as legal advisor. And in the last three weeks two F-14s had been reported missing, probably shot down, the fate of the crew unknown. It was going to be a cold lonely Christmas.

Mac's place
24th December
Early afternoon
It had been unexpected, but very, very welcome, the CAG's order to bring a plane to Milan for some necessary repairs and then be free to go home. Home, just in time for Christmas! Home with Mac, his best friend and … no need to deny it, the woman he loved. A love he was finally able to admit to himself, but whether he was ready to act on his feelings ... the jury was still out on that.
He sneaked in, using the spare key. Off course he had tried to call her, on her cell phone, not wanting the whole office to know he was back, but in vain. It went straight to voice mail.
But the moment he was in, he fell dead in his steps. It was the 24th of December and there was no decoration. Hardly any, that is, for the tree stood, but only the little lights were in it. There was a fake pine garland on the mantle, but that one wasn't decorated either. Candlesticks stood on the coffee table, the bookshelves and the mantle, but no candles were in them.
Suddenly it hit him. Like a ton of bricks. Five weeks ago he had called her to tell her he would be on a mission. Before he could break the message, she enthusiastically had been telling him about decorating the tree and the struggle with the little lights. But when he finally had to tell her he might not be home for Christmas, she had become very silent. She had wished him a safe trip and good luck and had promised to look after his mail and the one or two plants that lived in his loft. He had known him being away had hit her hard, only now he realized how hard. She must have stopped decorating the moment he had ended his call.
The room way too silent, he switched on the cd-player. To switch it off immediately when he recognized the song 'It's gonna be a long cold Christmas, without you'. If this was what she has been listening to all the time …
He stumbled to the table and sat with his head in his hands. "Oh Mac," he almost moaned. "I'm so sorry." It didn't matter it wasn't his fault – and she would be the first to point that out - and that being in the military came with unexpected TADs and even relocations. Neither was it his fault his whereabouts had been classified and he had not been able to stay in touch. How was he going to make this right?
Then he jumped into action. In a corner he found the box Mac kept her Christmas decorations in and then he started. First he hung stars in the garland and then he put the baubles and other decorations in the tree, ending with placing the angel on top and generously applying tinsel. Then he rummaged through the cupboard to come up with enough candles to make sure every candlestick had candle. Finally he laid his presents for her under the tree, keeping one little pouch in his pocket.
Then he headed to the bedroom. Mac's dress was already waiting for her, spread out on the bed. Harm smiled; it was exactly the dress he had hoped for, the dress he would have chosen, had he had a say in it.
A glance at the clock told him he had to hurry. He dropped his bag on the bed, next to the dress, careful not to wrinkle it. Then he rushed to take quick shower, shave and dress into something more festive than jeans and polo. Hastening back to the kitchen he found her shoe polish box and gave his shoes a quick shine. It was almost five o'clock; she could be home any moment now.

Indeed Mac was driving home, but there was no shimmer of a festive mood in her. In fact, had she been able to hide in the office, she would have been happy to work through the evening and maybe well into the night. But the Admiral had caught her and ordered her in no uncertain words she was to go home, change and then attend the annual Christmas dinner at the Roberts'. She sighed. That morning she had laid her dress out, including matching tights and shoes. She only needed a quick shower, apply some fresh make-up, dress and then grab the bag of presents, waiting under the coatrack. She could be on her way again in half an hour. This evening would pass and maybe, just maybe, he would find a way to contact her.
Engulfed in her dark mood she didn't notice the all too familiar car in the parking lot. She climbed the stairs and it was only when she put the key into the lock she noticed the difference. A large wreath hung on the door. She knew the wreath; it was her own but she sure as h*** hadn't hung it there. Someone had been inside her house and might even be still there. She reached for her sidearm and slowly and silently turned the key in the lock. She pushed the door open.

Harm had been sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine. He heard the slight squeak of the door and looked up.
"Mac!"
Only her training prevented Mac from dropping a loaded weapon. Without securing it, she all but throw it on the table and flung herself unto him.
"Harm! Harm! You're back!"
He had just time enough to stand up and catch her. She clung unto him and he was most happy to hold her. He felt her tremble and he knew he shouldn't ask. Instead he gave her all the time she needed, in the meantime secretly enjoying the opportunity to have her in his arms.
Suddenly she pulled back.
"You're back. When? Is everything all right? They didn't send you back because you're wounded, right?"
Her hands slit over his arms and her eyes roamed his face for any sign of injury.
"Whoa, Marine, calm down. I'm fine. I came back earlier this afternoon. I tried to call your cell phone, but it was switched off," he defended himself. "I'm fine, really. A new group of aviators arrived two days ago and there was a plane which needed to be flown back to the States." He pulled a face. "I'm very happy to be back in time for Christmas, but I feel sorry for those guys; deployed just before Christmas."
"You have been flying," Mac stated.
"Yes," Harm had to admit. "They were short on personnel, so I did a few missions. All went well." He decided not to tell about the time he just managed to dodge a missile. Maybe later, but not now.
They just looked at each other, until Mac stepped back.
"I better change," she said a bit self-conscious. "Christmas dinner at the Roberts'."
Harm didn't make an attempt to keep her back.
"Yes," he nodded. "I didn't call Harriet or Bud either, but I guess one more guest …"
"They will be thrilled, as will be little AJ," Mac laughed. She walked over to the table to secure her sidearm and then went to put it in its safe box. "Be right back."
Harm sat back on the couch and listened to her fumbling around in the bedroom. He heard the door of the bathroom and water running and it was only 15 minutes later that she emerged, hopping on one foot trying to put on her high heels.
Harm had trouble to keep his jaw from dropping. She looked gorgeous in the knee length night blue dress. A thin silver chain adorned her throat and matching earrings dangled from her earlobes.
She smiled shyly.
"You like it?"
Harm shook his head.
"I can't find the words to describe how beautiful you look," he sighed.
She blushed.
He reached out to take her hand.
"I want to give you a Christmas present."
"But we are to exchange presents later this evening," Mac protested.
"I know. I have a bag of presents in the trunk. But there is something I want to give you … now." His eyes pleaded.
"Okay." Mac wasn't going to stop him. Harm's hand disappeared into his pocket and came out with a dark blue velvet pouch. For a moment Mac's breath hitched. He wasn't going to ... No, the pouch was too big for that.
Nervously Harm handed her the pouch and Mac untied the little cord. In it was a shiny silver bracelet, scattered with tiny sapphires. Mac gasped.
"Harm, you shouldn't! It's gorgeous, but this is way too much."
"No, it's not," Harm stated, taking the bracelet from her with his one hand and cradling her left hand in his other. He hesitated a few seconds, as if he wanted to give her the opportunity to pull her hand back, then attached the bracelet around her wrist.
Mac had trouble to keep the tears at bay. This was such a beautiful and exclusive gift! She gave him a tight hug, whispering "Thank you. I love you," in his ear.
The moment the words left her mouth, she froze. What had she said? Even though it was true, she loved him and would always do so, telling him so was probably the safest way to chase him away. She only could hope he hadn't heard it, or had mistaken it for 'I love it'. Or that he would take it as an 'I love you-between-friends'-declaration.
At the same time Harm's heart skipped a beat. Had she really said it, and what was more, had she meant it? Meant it like he wanted her to mean it, the love of a woman for a man, not just the love between friends.
Mac stepped back, pretending to admire the bracelet once more. She didn't dare to look at him right now, afraid he would read her feelings in her eyes. Harm on the other hand wasn't prepared to let her go. He held on to her hand and looked down to her wrist, as if he'd never seen a woman's hand before. He took a deep breath. Here goes nothing!
"Do you know why I gave you a bracelet?"
"No," Mac shook her head surprised.
"Because they say 'when a woman accepts your bracelet, one day she will accept your ring'."
Mac swallowed. Slowly she lifted her eyes to meet his and suddenly there was such a glow of happiness around her, it took Harms breath away and he could only look at her in complete awe. The world had come to a standstill.

The clock chimed half past five and both jumped.
Mac reluctantly stepped back. It dawned on her, her internal clock had gone haywire. A bit embarrassed she looked up to Harm.
"I guess we'd better go."
Harm nodded.
"Your car or mine?"
"Yours is fine."
She didn't care which car. Harm was back; that was all that mattered! She walked over to the corner where her bag was waiting for her and then grabbed her coat. Harm was waiting at the door and reached out with his hand. Eagerly she laid her hand in his and they walked out together.
Mac looked over her shoulder for a moment. They would be back later that evening. Both of them. And it was going to be a warm, not to say a hot Christmas night!

The end

Merry Christmas to all of you