Home Is Where Your Love Is – Part 10

Disclaimer - See part one for all important information

Saturday

May 12, 2001

Harm's Apartment

North of Union Station, DC

5:56 PM

Harm opened the elevator door and removed the security bars. Carefully, he led the obviously exhausted Mac down the hallway to his apartment door. All her strength had been zapped just in getting there - evident in the fact that she was clinging to him. Undeniably, he was worried about her.

"Here we are," he said softly, opening his apartment door. He immediately placed Mac's bag next to the door as he entered, then quickly stepped out of the way so that his grandmother could follow them into the apartment. "Do you want to sit down on the sofa, Mac, or would you rather go lay down for a while?"

"Would you guys mind very much if I lay down for a little while?" Mac asked so quietly that he had to strain to hear her. She sounded so tired and worn out to him, and he had doubts that the painkillers she'd taken earlier were the only reason for it.

"Of course we don't mind. Come on; let's get you up the stairs and into a nice comfortable bed, Marine. Then you can get some shut eye while Grams and I figure out what's for dinner, okay?"

"'kay," Mac murmured against Harm's shoulder as he led her up the stairs to his bedroom. "But you two really don't have to wait for me to have dinner. I'm really not hungry, Harm."

'Not hungry… this is not good,' he thought to himself. If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that his Marine was always hungry and could eat anything, anywhere, anytime. He couldn't remember her ever turning down food. Okay, his meatless meatloaf she would refuse in a heartbeat, but other than that… food was one of her passions. It was a pleasure she could indulge in without feeling guilty or fear that her clothes wouldn't fit afterwards. Harm had always admired the way she could eat like a truck driver and never put an ounce of fat on that beautiful body of hers.

"Let's wait and see, Marine," he replied firmly. "For all we know, your stomach will be screaming for food as soon as you wake up," Harm quipped and added jokingly, "then you'll be cranky as hell and just as intolerable."

"Maybe," Mac whispered tiredly as Harm helped her down on to his bed. That's when she became fully aware of her surroundings. "Oh, Harm, I shouldn't be taking your bed." She started to get up again. "Just help me back to the living room and I can sleep on the couch, really."

Harm immediately put his hand on her shoulders to keep her down. "No way in hell, Mac. You can just forget it. You are not sleeping on my little couch," he said. Mac immediately started to protest, but Harm was quick to add. "This is one thing that is not negotiable. Hear me, Marine?"

As much as she would have liked to, Mac was in no condition to argue. She was just too weary. "Yes, Sir," was her slow reply. "But where will you sleep? Your couch is way too short for you, Sailor."

"Don't you worry your pretty head about me. You and Grams will take the bed and I'll use the inflatable bed I borrowed from Harriet and Bud," Harm explained as he knelt down in front of her to remove her shoes.

"Objection, counselor," Grams added from the doorway. She moved into the bedroom and set Mac's bag down on the bed. "I'm sorry to correct you, Harm, but YOU and Mac will have to take the bed and I will use the inflatable."

"Graaams," Harm squealed, trying to object but being immediately over-ruled by his persistent grandmother.

"Don't Grams me, Harmon! We are all adults here and MY decision is non-negotiable."

Harm gazed at his grandmother with raised eyebrows.

"You know damn well what a deep sleeper I am, Harm. The odds are that, even though we were in the same room, I wouldn't hear Mac when she needed help. Heck, I doubt that I'd hear a freight train if it passed through the room," Grams joked, squeezing Mac's shoulder gently.

Harm chuckled. "Yeah, you do have a point," he said, knowing exactly how soundly his grandmother slept. He remembered visiting on the farm at Christmas when he was a little boy and trying to wake her up after Santa had arrived and left his presents.

Harm placed his hands on the outside of Mac's thighs, squeezing them ever so gently. "What do you think, Jarhead? Feel like sharing this bed with a friendly sailor?"

Mac managed a little smile. "I think I can do that and survive as long as you aren't too friendly," she answered jokingly. "It's not like we haven't slept together before."

Harms eyes immediately widened as he shot a nervous look at Grams. "Whoa... not slept together, Marine… just shared sleeping space," Harm was quick to correct.

"Yeah… yeah whatever you say, Harm. As long as you keep your hands and everything else to yourself, we'll be just fine." Mac finished, grinning widely.

Grams loved their playfulness and devotion and knew there was so much more between them. She just had to try and find a way to make them see it for themselves.

Harm laughed good-naturedly and gave Mac a quick peck on her forehead before he got up from is knees. "You just remember that yourself, Marine. I don't want to feel those hands of yours all over me in the middle of the night."

Mac laughed. "In your dreams, Flyboy," she retorted.

"Touché, Marine. Now get some sleep. I'm sure Grams will be glad to help you change and get ready," he said. He got a nod from his grandmother in response as she proceeded to open Mac's bag.

Harm couldn't stop the astounding vision that immediately assaulted him. They were in Russia searching for his father, and Mac was in a sexy white slip of a nightgown. "Ah… you brought your pajamas with you this time, right?" he stammered nervously.

Mac giggled, giving him a smirk. She wasn't sure if it was fear or a hint of expectation she depicted in his voice when he asked. "What pajamas?" she teasingly replied as she elicited a groan from him in response.

"Well there are no pajamas in here," Grams uttered, continuing their playful banter and getting a quick turn of the head from her grandson before she continued. "I'm sure this t-shirt will do though," she said, holding it up for Harm to see.

Harm let out a belly laugh while Mac turned bright red. She didn't need to see what Grams was referring to because she knew exactly what she was talking about. It was the one that she always wore to bed when Harm was away or one of them was out of town on a case. She felt as though he was with her when she wore it.

"Well, well… nice choice of dress, Jarhead," Harm teased her in between his laughter. "Now I know where one of my favorite t-shirts disappeared to," he said, remembering how long he'd searched for the shirt with the Tomcat on the front and the word 'NAVY' on the back. He had finally given up, thinking he'd left it behind while away on a case.

Mac shrugged her shoulders. "I didn't think you'd mind," she responded, not wanting to admit that she'd stolen it from him while they had been working on an out of town case. It was shortly before he left JAG to go back to flying. She had desperately needed something to hold on to because at the time, in her mind, he had left her behind.

"I don't mind," Harm replied softly. "Not at all, and I'm pretty sure it looks a whole lot better on you than it does on me." With that said, he thought it was time to change the subject. "Grams, how would you like Chinese food for dinner?"

"Sounds good to me," Grandma Sarah replied.

"Great. Sweet dreams, Mac. Oh, and later… you get to tell me just exactly how you ended up in possession of my t-shirt."

Giving her no chance for a rebuttal, Harm walked out of the bedroom, leaving Grams to help Mac get ready. He knew his grandmother would take excellent care of his partner.

"Oh, and Mac, this time I promise to make you breakfast in the morning," Harm threw back over his shoulder with an enormous grin on his handsome face, as he remembered the night they spent in the Appalachian Mountains.

He made quick work of calling the Chinese restaurant around the corner and ordered Chop Suey for his grandmother, Chow Mein with shrimp for himself and – in the hope that Mac would indeed be hungry when she woke – some chicken soup for her. Then he got his keys from the shelf and went to get the inflatable bed from his car.

x

6:41 PM

Harm was on the phone talking to a member of the Washington Police Department trying to find out more information about the explosion at Mac's apartment building. While inflating what was to be his grandmother's bed for the foreseeable future, there was a knock on the door.

Before he could react, Grams - who was coming out of the bedroom - had taken the initiative and opened the door. She retrieved the Chinese food and paid the delivery boy. She then walked over to the sofa and took a seat next to her grandson, placing the food on the table in front of them.

"Yes, Sir, thank you. Good night," Harm said into the phone before hanging up with a sigh.

"Were they able to give you any more news?" Grandma Sarah asked as she took her food from the table. The sad expression she saw on her grandson's face was enough to tell her that the news wasn't good.

"Is Mac asleep?" Harm asked softly, reaching for his food as well. He didn't want her to hear him. Right now she didn't need the added grief of knowing just how disastrous the explosion had been.

"Yeah, she's asleep. But she is obviously in a lot of pain, Harm, and I don't mind telling you that I am worried about her. She is moaning and groaning constantly. I tried to give her some more painkillers, but she adamantly refused to take any."

Harm took a bite of his Chow Mein, contemplating how to respond. "Actually, that doesn't surprise me. I knew it was just a matter of time before she would refuse to take them. She doesn't like to take stuff like that," he stated vaguely, not wanting to betray Mac's trust in him.

"I know," Grandma Sarah responded, swallowing a piece of her Chop Suey and gave her grandson a sympathetic nod. "I tried to talk her into taking another pill to help her sleep and that's when she told me about her past and her addiction to alcohol. She is afraid of becoming addicted to the pills."

Harm gave her a knowing nod. The knowledge that Mac felt comfortable enough to open up to his grandmother about her past warmed him immensely, especially seeing as how Mac rarely let anyone in. "I have some ibuprofen in the medicine cupboard. Maybe we can get her to take some if the pain becomes too much for her," Harm offered.

With a deep sigh, he put his food on the table and fell back against the couch. He closed his weary eyes, rubbing them with his hands. He no longer had an appetite as fatigue had taken the place of hunger.

Grandma Sarah watched Harm closely, noting that he was close to collapsing. "I take it the news you got wasn't good, was it?" Grams asked worriedly, placing her hand on Harm's arm and squeezing it in support. "What the hell happened, Harm?"

Harm let out his breath slowly. "No, it's not good. They're still trying to find survivors, but so far they have only recovered dead bodies. Twelve of them and all are unidentifiable. The police said the hope of finding any survivors is dim," he finished in a whisper. "I asked about Jingo, but so far no animals have been found."

"Do they know what caused the explosion?"

Harm shook his head. "No, I don't think so - or he just wasn't ready to tell me. He said they are still investigating and analyzing everything. They want to be absolutely sure before going public with their findings."

"So there is still the possibility that the explosion was set intentionally and was not an accident?" Grandma Sarah questioned.

"Yeah, it would seem that way," Harm ventured. Grams could hear the worry and fear in his voice.

"Do you think that if it was intentional, it was deliberately aimed at Mac?" Grams asked hesitantly, not wanting to make him any more distraught than he already was.

Harm shrugged his shoulders, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as his gaze fell to the floor. "I just don't know, Grams," he answered in resignation. "It could be. She's military, and definitely has a few enemies running around out there. The odds that it could have been a move against her are in my eyes... very high."

"Is that the reason why you're so worried?"

Harm chuckled, still looking down and avoiding his grandmother's eyes. "No. I mean if that was the only problem, I would be worried about her – yes, but deep down I know she could definitely take care of herself. As much as I hate to admit it, Mac is a Marine, and a damn good one. She IS able to take care of herself. She doesn't need me or anyone else for that matter to do it for her."

"But I'm sure she appreciates what you do, and are doing for her… to know that you care about her," Grandma Sarah threw in. "At least the woman in her always will." She paused, taking a deep breath before she spoke again. "Harm, if it's not the explosion that has you so worried, what is it that concerns you?"

Harm inhaled deeply and rubbed his face dejectedly. "Mac has had a rough couple of days," he again answered vaguely.

That was all he had to say for Grams to take the initiative and ask the question that had been sitting on the tip of her tongue for a while now. "Harm, can I assume that the terrible bruise on her back has something to do with it?"

Harm's head shot up and he gazed directly into his grandmother's eyes. "You saw it, didn't you?" he asked quietly.

Grandma Sarah held his gaze and nodded her head in the affirmative. "Yeah, it was hard not to notice. You don't need a medical degree to recognize that the bruise did not fit into the scope of the other injuries on her back. Obviously, you saw it as well?"

"Yeah, I saw it at the hospital today. Like you said, it's hard not to see it."

"Do you have any idea what happened?" Grams asked softly. She thought about asking Mac when she discovered the bruise, but thought better of it. Mac wasn't in any condition to talk about something significant, at least not yet.

Harm snorted. "Yeah, I do know. Bugme happened."

Before Grandma Sarah had a chance to comment on Harm's answer, a large crash came from Harm's bedroom.

"MAACCC!" Harm yelled out and quickly got up from the couch to run into his bedroom.