Don't be cross.
Washington
Wedding venue
Early evening
Slowly the row moved a few steps forwards. Only ten or eleven people to go. Harm held back a sigh. Attending a wedding of people he didn't know at the end of an already busy day was not his favourite pastime, but Mac had looked so pleadingly he hadn't been able to resist or come up with an excuse. Luckily it was only the service and now the reception and they might be able to sneak away soon, after they had congratulated bride and groom. Another five people to go and then it was the moment they could add their well-wishes to the bunch the happily married couple already had received.
Now it was their turn and Mac hugged both bride and groom, kissing their cheeks. She handed the bride the present she held. It was soft and floppy and Harm expected her to hand it to one of the children functioning as ushers but no, the young woman looked pleasantly surprised.
"You didn't, did you?"
Mac just smiled broadly.
"I have to see!" Carefully the bride unwrapped the present and "Mac, it's beautiful!" she exclaimed. "I though you only just started cross-stitching."
She held up the sampler for her groom to see. In the middle was a motif of a bride and groom, with their names beneath them. A border with flowers framed the date of marriage and other motifs depicted family, jobs and hobbies.
"I did," Mac laughed. "I started last year. A friend gave me some material. She was just teasing me a bit, knowing I wasn't a crafter. But then I caught the flue and had to stay home for over a week. I got fed up with reading and the rest is history."
"But how did you get the patterns?"
"Internet and I asked that friend to help me. She has loads of cross-stitch magazines," Mac explained.
"It's gorgeous. We are going to have it framed and it will go into our bedroom," her female friend declared, hugging Mac once more.
Next to them Harm smiled. He hadn't known Mac was such a good crafter either. Slowly he started to move along, giving the people in line behind them the opportunity to congratulate bride and groom. The bride had something on her mind, though.
"Are you and he ...?" she asked Mac in a hushed voice, tilting her head to Harm.
"No, we are just friends. Good friends," Mac told her. She smiled, but only she knew how fake that smile was. Good friends, yeah. Very good, even best friends, that much was true as well. If only the words Harm and commitment in one sentence ... she didn't finish her thought.
A few feet away Harm stood. Although it wasn't meant for him to hear, he had overheard those last words. He bit back a sigh. Yeah friends … and that was all there was in it for him.
Later in the car he asked her "I didn't know you cross-stitched either?"
"I didn't start that long ago," Mac told him. "And I guess it just didn't come up in conversation. I find it very relaxing, though. It was really fun to make that sampler. And to win the 'bet'. Hillary and I talked about it, a few months back, but she never expected me to really make one," she ended a bit smug. "Well, she owes me lunch now, when they are back from their honeymoon."
"So now you're ready for your next project?"
"Yes. I still thinking about it; either I want to makes something for myself or I start another sampler. Maybe a baby sampler for a friend of mine who is six months pregnant."
She didn't mention the other sampler she already started. That was her bittersweet secret.
McMurphy's bar
Friday evening
"He is really a looker," the young woman sighed. "Do you know him?"
"Yes," Harriet answered. "He is a colleague at JAG."
"A lawyer! Great! Married?"
"No."
"Engaged? Girlfriend?"
"No." It sounded somewhat reluctant and Mac knew why. Harriet still hadn't abandoned hope she and Harm would get it right, someday.
"So no problem if I take a chance, then?"
Both women shook their head, both secretly wishing they could nod yes and tell the woman to back off.
JAG headquarters
Tuesday morning
"I'm sorry, Harm, I have to cancel tonight. Investigation." With an apologizing smile she looked up at him. Harm smiled back. He knew being part of JAG meant you could find yourself somewhere on a ship or submarine in the blink of an eye. That didn't mean he liked his partner to be out of town, without him, but he wasn't going to give her a hard time about it.
"Don't worry, Marine. We'll reschedule. Do you want me to look after your plants?"
They both laughed; looking after their mutual non-existing plants was a running gag between them.
"Yes please. And while you check on them, can you drop off this bag at my place?" She pointed at the bag standing next to her office's door.
"Of course," Harm told her.
"And make sure nothing in the fridge goes bad."
"That too," he promised. "Do you need a ride to the airport?"'
'Yes please' he pleaded inwardly, feeling like a little boy now wanting to leave the party. Everything for a few more moments spend with her.
Mac tilted her head. Would it be more convenient to have her car at the airport or at JAG? It sure was safer at JAG.
"Can you pick me up as well, if possible?" she asked.
"Will do."
"Then yes, please."
"Just knock on my door when you're ready to leave." And with that he returned to this office and the pile of files waiting for him.
At 12.10 she knocked on his door.
"Can you bring me now?"
Harm closed the folder he was working on and stood up.
"Sure. Just have to give this to Harriet."
Moments later they were in his car, Mac's sea-bag on the backseat.
"Where are you going to?" he wanted to know.
"Plane to Italy, then by helicopter to one of the ships. There are three and I don't know which one, yet."
"Any idea how long you will be gone?"
"No, but at least two weeks." She bit back a sigh. Harm kept silent. He knew how she felt, for he felt the exactly same way.
At the airport there was just time enough to grab a quick bite in a sandwich bar and then Mac hauled her bag to check-in. One last wave and she was gone.
It was only when she was in the air she remembered an item, lying on her coffee table. An item she desperately did not want him to see.
It was only the day after Harm found time to drop off the bag and to 'check on Mac's plants'. Due to his extended lunch break he had had to work overtime the previous day. No that he cared; spending a bit of one on one time with Mac had been worth it.
He also checked on the fridge, taking a few things out. This was also a thing they did for each other on a regular base. Coming home to find a fridge with rotting meat or slimy vegetables is not a nice thing. Putting the package of minced beef in a bag Harm already planned to make a pasta Bolognaise sauce. It would freeze well and Mac loved to have some easy-to-heat stuff in stock.
He made a quick round through the apartment to make sure all doors and windows were locked, all lights were out and the timers on.
On his way out he passed by the coffee table and his eye fell on a piece of cloth. Embroidery fabric; she must have started another project already. Curious he put down the bag and took the cloth into his hands. It indeed was another sampler, he saw, once again a wedding sampler with a bride and groom at the place of honour in the centre. He took another look and suddenly he felt his legs go weak. He flopped down on the couch, stunned, the cross stitch work still in hands.
This was not just a sampler, it was their sampler. Their - him and Mac's - wedding sampler. Everything was there: his family tree, the old farm, his Stearman Sarah, his corvette, his ribbons and medals, everything. As was 'her' side: her Cherokee and Iranian ancestry, her knowledge of Farsi and Russian, the dinosaur traces and even her 'internal clock'. The only thing that wasn't there was the date of marriage; the little field under the bridal couple was empty.
Slowly he traced the patterns with his forefinger. If this was her dream, why hadn't she said something? Give him a hint? Just a small clue she wanted him to be more than a friend? Right, that would be for the same reasons he had hid his feelings for her. For fear to be laughed at; fear to ruin the best relation he had ever had with a woman, or at best made it awkward and tense. For fear of the consequences at the job.
With a moan he wrapped his face in his hands. Now he knew and he couldn't go back. Couldn't un-know. He was sure the moment she saw him, she would know something had changed. He had to act on this new intel, but how? That certainly warranted some long and hard thinking.
Carefully he folded the fabric again and placed it back on the table. He didn't need to see it again; the image was etched in his brain. Rising to his feet the grabbed the bag and headed for the door.
That evening he went through several ideas, to dispose them as quickly as they sprung up. Finally a plan started to develop, but he knew it needed some work. Well, she would be away for at least two weeks, so he had some time. With a sigh he stood up to start cooking the Bolognaise sauce. At least that he could do for her.
Over the next days he did some research and a few days later he returned to Mac's apartment, armed with a piece of paper, a little black pouch and a lot of determination. First he made himself a cup of coffee. 'To strengthen me' he chuckled to himself. Then he washed his hands, in order not to smudge the fabric. He carefully took up Mac's embroidery work and started to count the amount of threads in the empty frame under the bride and groom, designed to hold the date of the wedding. He smiled. His calculations were right.
Next he set out to find Mac's stash of embroidery thread and found it in a little wooden box on the side table. Carefully he searched and selected the right colour, just a tad lighter than the colour in which both their names were embroidered. He folded out the piece of paper he had brought with him, cut off a piece of embroidery thread and with an effort he threaded it through the needle. Once more he counted and then he set off, checking after ever other stitch.
It wasn't easy. Soon Harm had droplets of sweat on his forehead and had to wipe them away. Just in time he remembered not to use the embroidery. How could women like this, let alone find it relaxing? It was worse than writing depositions for a whole day.
But he kept going and almost two hours later he proudly admired his handwork. The previously empty cartouche sported now the date '19 July 2001', five years from the date they had met for the first time in the Rose Garden at the White House. That Rose Garden was present on the sampler as well, in the form of a border of roses at the bottom, the only part Mac was still working on.
Harm blew out a breath. He took the little pouch out of his pocket. In it was an engagement ring, gold adorned with two small and one larger diamond. Carefully he threaded it on a piece of yarn and with a little bow he tied it to the fabric, just beneath the feet of bride and groom. He took one more moment to admire his handiwork once again, then he folded the fabric and put it back on the table. Now the only thing to do was to wait till she came back.
Friday evening
A week later
Harm was on his way to 'run an errand' and he was happy to. Picking up Mac from the airport was something he looked forward to. He had missed her.
An hour and a half later she was sitting next to him in his car and they already had had a serious session of catching up.
"I stocked your fridge," Harm said, turning into the parking lot of Mac's apartment building.
Mac smiled; she hadn't expected otherwise.
"Can you stay for coffee?" she asked. After all, she had to make up for two and a half weeks of missing him.
Harm kept silent. He bit back a sigh, not knowing whether he was happy with her invitation. Well, of course he loved the time spent with her, but he wasn't completely sure he wanted to be present when she discovered … What if she didn't like …? Not that he was to back pedal, but if he had misunderstood her feelings he was in for some serious …
"Can you?" Mac repeated her question, interrupting his thoughts.
"Of course," Harm made up his mind. Saying no would not only be cowardly, but also not benefit his case. So he chivalrously hauled up Mac's bag and brought it to her bedroom. In the meantime Mac had shed her coat, dropped her briefcase under the hat stand and rushed to the kitchen to put on the coffee. On her way back she saw her embroidery work lying folded on the coffee table and bent over to put it away, before he would ask after it. But when she had it in hand, she frowned. It was folded differently from the way she normally did and there was something, a hard lump, in it.
Slowly, making sure the front was directed toward herself so he wouldn't see, she unfolded it and … she felt her legs tremble and almost dropped the piece of fabric. Tentatively she touched the 'lump'; was it really an engagement ring? And was the little field indeed filled in with a date? With trembling lips she looked up and her eyes sought Harm.
Harm stood at the bedroom door. He felt very tense and had to force himself to unclench his fists. Now he saw Mac looking at him, he slowly walked over to her and when he reached her, he lowered himself on one knee.
"Sarah, I love you. I love you so much. Will you marry me?"
Now the piece of cloth did fall to the ground and Mac covered her mouth with her hand, choking back a little cry. Harm reached out to take hold of her other hand and pressed it to his cheek. For long moments she just stared at him; then her head started to move, slowly up and down, up and down.
Harm was on his feet in a second, folding her into his arms and holding her close.
"Yes?" he asked, like he couldn't believe his eyes.
"Yes," Mac whispered, slipping her arms around his waist and holding on for dear life.
For a while Harm held her tight, but then he pulled back, only far enough so he could retrieve the sampler. He released the ring and held it up to Mac. With the most beautiful smile he ever saw she reached out with her left hand and with slightly unsteady fingers he slipped the ring on her finger. Then he pulled her close again, pressing his lips on hers.
When they sat on the couch, quite some time later, and each nursing a cup of coffee, there was time to talk.
"I didn't know you cross stitched, too," Mac said.
"I don't," Harm laughed. "When I saw the sampler," he threw a look at the piece of work, lying spread out on the coffee table "I knew I had to do something. It took me some thinking, but when the idea had set, I knew that would be the way. So I looked on the internet to come up with a pattern and borrowed a bit of your embroidery tread. Don't expect me to go and cross-stitch now, these ten numbers and letters took me almost two hours."
Mac laughed and pulled him in for yet another kiss.
"Time well spent," she told him. "I love it." She sat straight again. "You never said something, never gave me a hint."
"Believe me, not for not wanting. But I was afraid … I didn't know how you felt. There were so many moments I wanted to ask you on a date. Or just take you in my arms. Kiss you. Like on that wedding. Or that Friday at McMurphy's. But then I heard you say …"
"We are just friends," Mac completed his sentence. She remembered the scenes well and reached out to caress his cheek. "At that wedding they kept pestering me about our relation and I didn't want to betray … 'I couldn't say we're friends, but I'm madly in love with him and I don't have a clue how he feels about me', could I?"
Harm laughed out loud and reached out to her. She happily laid her hands in his.
"No, you couldn't. Although, maybe I would have said 'And I'm madly in love with her'." He brought her hands to his lips. "Because that's what I am: madly in love with you."
"We wasted so much time," Mac sighed.
"Yes," Harm agreed. "But we aren't going to waste more."
"Do you really want to get married on the 19th of July?" Mac wanted to know. "Why?"
"Don't you recognize the date?"
"No," Mac shook her head surprised.
"It's the day we met," Harm explained. "Five years ago. But if you think it's too soon, or planning will take longer, it's fine. I don't care."
"July 19th sounds great," Mac reassured him. "That is, unless you want a big wedding. Then planning will take longer, I guess."
Now it was Harm's turn to shake no.
"I don't want a big wedding. I want my family and some friends and co-workers present. I don't need something elaborate, but if you want …"
Mac was already shaking her head.
"Nope. We will go and start planning very soon and we'll see what we come up with."
She rested her head against his shoulder and let out a sigh. Suddenly she felt exhausted, not only because of the long journey, but also because of all emotions. Harm noticed immediately.
"You better get some sleep. I'll be here first thing tomorrow with breakfast," he promised. Mac nodded. She would have preferred him to stay, but then again, she didn't want to rush things. With a suppressed yawn she stood and accompanied him to the door. There he turned for a last kiss.
"See you tomorrow, my lovely Marine."
"Tomorrow," Mac smiled. When he had disappeared into the elevator, she closed and locked the door. She headed to the bathroom and made quick work of washing and brushing her teeth. Then she slipped into her bed – he had changed the bedding, she absently noticed – and placed her ring on the nightstand, where she would see it first thing in the morning. Tomorrow! She couldn't wait.
The end