A/N: This is a collection of vignettes looking back at some of Harm and Mac's Christmases over the years. The dates and details may be a little dodgy here and theres, so I apologize in advance for any errors or inconsistencies. This collection will have 9 or 10 chapters, but I'll post them pretty rapidly. Your feedback as always is much appreciated!

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own any of it...

December 1967

It was Christmas Eve, and four year old Harm and his mother were watching a Christmas special on TV. It was a chilly night, so Harm's mother fetched a quilt to wrap around them on the couch. Harm was quiet, tense, almost like he was waiting for something. His mother, Trish, knew exactly what her little boy was waiting for, and it broke her heart. She was doing all she could think of to distract him, but nothing seemed to be working.

Their little artificial Christmas tree stood in the corner, gaily decorated with popcorn and tinsel, with three little gifts underneath it. Little Harm had insisted they 'buy a present for Dad' – so Trish had gone out and bought one for her husband, even though she knew he was miles away on a mission, and wouldn't be coming home for the holidays. She would rather have saved the money she spent on the extra gift, but she figured it was worth it if it made her sweet, sensitive boy feel a little bit better.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Trish was troubled. As a young woman practically raising her child alone, she had learned quickly to be cautious. It was one of the worst things about her husband being gone so often and for so long – that sense of vulnerability she was left with. Who could be knocking at their door so late on Christmas Eve? She didn't notice how her son's eyes lit up. She went to the door, looked through the peephole, and gasped. No sooner had she unlocked and flung open the door than she was in her husband's arms, laughing and crying all at once.

Harmon Rabb, Sr dropped his bag and lifted Harm's mother into the air, whirling her around in the air as they laughed together. Then he dropped to one knee, and spread his arms out to his young son. Little Harm hesitated for only a second before running into his father's arms and holding him as close as he could. Tears seeped from the corners of his tightly-shut eyes as he whispered, "I told Mommy you were coming home for Christmas."