Chapter 11: Together Again


San Diego, California 1805 HRS

The entire way home Laura keeps up a steady stream of happy chatter. She's made up with Liam. They aren't mad at each other anymore… And he is still a dumb boy!

Mac wants to talk about the brace, and the missed therapy sessions but fears either conversation might upset her. She decides to put both conversations on hold and let both herself and Laura enjoy the girl's moment of cheerfulness. There are tough days ahead and they will both need to take respite where they can find it.

So, Mac lets her chatter on about beating Liam at Connect Four, but he won CandyLand. They had to stay inside since Laura couldn't wear her brace, but they played Twister, and Liam sucked at that game. He fell down every time he moved. Laura laughs happily.

Mac smiles and laughs along, nodding in all the right places. She even manages to ask a few questions, but her mind keeps returning to one thought. Harm.

"Aunt Mac." Laura kicks a small foot gently against the underside of the dashboard. "Aunt Mac, green means GO!" The child calls out from the passenger seat. "Aunt Mac, are you okay? Did you forget how to drive?" She asks with a giggle.

"Sorry Baby. I guess I'm just a little distracted." She takes her foot off the brake and waves apologetically to the discontented driver behind her. Two more blocks until home… And then what? She really has no idea. She supposes she could call London and ask Commander Gantry if his superior has checked in yet. What if he hasn't; then what? Thinking in circles, Mac might drive herself half mad if the ride were any longer.

Laura is saying something about dinner. Mac smiles. The girl is always hungry! "I will fix you some dinner in a little while. I promise. I put pot roast in the crock pot before I left for work this morning."

"Pot roast? With carrots and those little potatoes?"

"Yes Laura." Mac chuckles as her excitement. "Gravy and green beans too."

"Yummy!"

She turns onto her street. "Girl, do you ever think about anything but your stomach?"

"Hey!" She exclaims seriously," My stomach is very important; you know. It's very important, because it's always hungry!"

Once in her driveway, Mac's mouth goes dry, her heart races, and her palms begin to sweat.

"Hey, who's car is that Aunt Mac?" Came the next query from the passenger seat. Laura is leaning forward; straining against her seatbelt to get a look at the unfamiliar vehicle.

She shakes her head; unable to speak. She gets out of the Vette, leaves her briefcase, opens the passenger side door, and picks Laura up in her arms without a word. Candy, Laura's dog, climbs over the girl's car seat, bounds out the door and around the side of the house to the front walk. Mac closes the car door with her hip and steps the short distance across the drive to peer through the window into the front passenger seat of the unfamiliar vehicle. What is she looking for? The answer is easy; anything she might recognize as his. Finding nothing familiar, she sprints for the front door.

The only living thing on the front porch is a panting black Lab. Who sits eagerly beside the front door and waits to be let in. Once inside, Mac kicks off her shoes immediately and uses one foot to push them out of the direct path of the door. No one is in the living room. She deposits the little girl in her arms on the living room sofa. As she steps into the kitchen around the island countertop that divides the living area from the other, smaller room, she removes her tie and her uniform jacket. She drapes them over a bar stool, hits the playback button on the answering machine and lifts the lid on the crock pot in rapid succession. The entire house, smells like pot roast and her empty stomach grumbles. She ignores it. She replaces the lid and reduces the temperature on the device as much as she possibly can without turning it off. There are two messages, one from her sister's lawyer, and one from her mother. She ignores them both. Knowing he isn't there, she returns to the living room again on her way to the master bedroom. She pokes her head in the doorway. This was the room where she almost never sleeps. Nope, no Harm there either. The bathroom door is open. Not there either.

The dog has taken to following her; no doubt sensing her agitation in spite of the fact that she keeps quiet. The dog isn't the only one who notices.

"Aunt Mac, I really don't know who you're looking for, but obviously they didn't leave a message on the machine. They aren't in the bedroom, or the crock pot. The front door was locked when we got here, so unless they have a key, I really don't think they're here!"

Mac rolls her eyes. "Of course I know he's not in the crock pot! Silly girl!" she calls out, stepping through the kitchen once more, on her way to the other room. The room. No Harm.

She returns to the living room, picks Laura up, and goes back to the kitchen and out the back door. No one is visible on the beach from the back porch. She crosses it, and at the top step she looks left. No one. Turning to the right, she walks down the steps, trips over something, and nearly looses her footing. She flails, grabs for the railing, and pens Laura between herself and it, and somehow, she keeps from going down. She sits down on the steps and brushes hair out of Laura's eyes with her fingertips. "That was close! You okay kiddo?

"Yeah, I'm okay, but what happened?"

"I tripped on…" She looks down at the pair of shoes that are now lying in the sand at the bottom of the steps. "Those." she points. She moves Laura from her lap to the step beside her and goes down to pick up not only the shoes, but the pair of white socks beside them. White socks and brown shoes. A man's shoes. She lifts the tongue of one shoe and peers inside; size 13.

He's here. But where? She laughs excitedly, causing Laura to look at her strangely. She places the shoes neatly back on the bottom step, folds the socks in half and lays them across the top of the shoes. Standing once more, she mutters to herself, "Damn Flyboy, what? Are you trying to kill me?"

Laura continues to look up at her; utterly confused. "Aunt Mac, are you losing it?" The girl giggles at her own question.

Without answering, Mac turns to the right again, realizing that she never had a good look in that direction as she had intended.

"Okay" She thinks to herself, "So he got here, and no one was home. So… He walked around the outside of the house… looking for a way to kill time. There's the beach… The water… He sat down; took off his socks and shoes… and went for a walk; of course. So, he should be…

There!

She spots him. Some 300 yards down the beach. His back to them. He is walking at the water's edge; the tide lapping gently at his bare feet, khaki cargo pants rolled up to his calves, white shirt loose and flapping gently in the mild breeze. He stands so straight and tall. Few men are that tall. She feels absolutely dizzy at the sight of him.

She sets off after him quickly. Then, on an afterthought, she reverses direction just as suddenly, bends at the waist, holds Laura's little face in her hands and kisses it repeatedly.

"Aunt Mac! What's the matter with you?" The girl laughs.

"I'll be back in a few minutes Baby. I'm just going down the beach. You stay here, okay. Stay right here!" She says, rising to her full height again. She sets out again, calling over her shoulder, "Candy, you stay. Stay with Laura."

Laura and the dog sit side by side on the porch step watching her sprint down the beach. When Laura can't see her anymore, she whispers to her furry friend, "I think my aunt needs a vacation!"

Mac jogs after him for a few feet in the loose sand, and then heads to the water's edge where the sand is wet and packed firmly. There, she is able to gain traction and move faster. More than once, she starts to call out to him, but each time she does something holds her back. It sounds ridiculous, even in her own mind, but he's traveled this far. Somehow, she can't bring herself to make him turn and shorten the distance between them.

He stops, bends and picks something up from the sand. Mac watches him silently as he extends his arm behind his head and tosses the item into the ocean. She guesses it might be a seashell or maybe a starfish. He starts moving again, but the brief pause is enough.

When she gets closer, she slows to a quick walk; still having to take twice as many steps as he to compensate for his longer strides. She knows if she opens her mouth her voice will either crack, or fail her completely. Closer still, she slows a bit more. Stepping to one side, she reaches out and gently lays her hand against the space between his shoulder blades.

He turns slowly, the question in his eyes quickly fading into recognition. She waits for the initial surprise to fade. When it does, he doesn't say anything. She doesn't either. They just stand there looking at each other.

God, were his eyes always this blue. Why doesn't he say anything? For the same reason she doesn't. Neither of them knows what to say. She gives it a few more long seconds and then she quits searching for words and simply wraps her arms around him. The solid feel of him instantly brings tears to her eyes.

Perplexed, for a second or two, Harm stands there stunned completely motionless as he stares down at the top of her head against his shoulder while she hugs him. He isn't sure what sort of greeting he expected; but this isn't it. No, he hadn't expected this warm embrace; no matter how much he wants it, he hadn't expected it. For another half second, he thinks he might be dreaming again. Is she real? Is he even breathing? One more half second, and he decides that he doesn't care if it is real, or even if he is breathing.

He wraps his arms around her and holds on tight. She doesn't make a sound, not one, but he feels her relax when his arms go around her. Before long he feels her warm tears soaking through the front of his shirt. He only holds her and cries with her.

She is still for a time and he turns his eyes toward the horizon, out over the water, and simply enjoys the feel of her in his arms until he feels her lift her head from his shoulder, and then he seeks her eyes.

"Hi." she whispers; almost purring

He can't help but chuckle softly. That single word is more than she had said to him in two years, yet there is no malice. There is happiness, joy even, and maybe he's imagining it, but he could swear there is something mildly flirtatious in it.

"Hi." He whispers back.

She hugs him tighter and snuggles closer, before turning in his arms so that she too can face the ocean. They stand like this for a long moment, one of his arms around her shoulders, the other around her waist. She lays her arms on top of his and holds on while the water swirls around their ankles. They inhale the salty ocean air.

She smells sweet; like honey suckle. Not the fragrance he remembers, but he likes it.

He smells the way he always did; like the wind and something earthy; solid and sturdy. He smells like Harm.

She reaches up and lays a hand gently against his cheek and he enjoys the caress for a moment before turning his head to kiss the inside of her palm. Her head has found that spot on his shoulder again; the one where it fits just right.

His lips find the soft skin of her cheek just below her ear, and it is really more a nuzzle than a kiss, but it feels just fine. Then he goes still. She knows something has shifted but she can't quite name it until she hears him whisper, "I'm sorry."

He feels her sigh. "I'm sorry too."

He shakes his head. "You don't need to be."

She turns to face him once more. She wraps her arms around his waist, and leans back at the same time so she can look up into his eyes. "Neither do you."

He squints, not understanding, on the verge of telling her that he will always be sorry but she puts a tender finger to his lips and shakes her head.

"Okay," he thinks to himself, so he doesn't agree with her; but so what! He damn sure isn't about to argue with her. Not now… Besides, something else has caught his attention.

"Uh, Mac… What's going on with your hair?"

"My hair?" she chuckles nervously; touching the loose, unraveling knot at the nape of her neck

"Yeah. It's kind of a mess." He teases playfully. "Very un-Marine-like, and it's passed your collar too." He shakes his head in mock disapproval.

Pulling pins out of her hair with one hand, she uses the other hand to jab him in the ribs. "It's your fault Squid! I tripped over your damn gunboats on the back porch steps. I nearly fell on my face! Then I had to jog all the way down here to catch you. If I'd known this morning that I was gonna be doing wind sprints I would've used some extra hold hair spray and a lot more pins."

She pulls the last pin free and gives her head a little shake, sending hair cascading down her back and over his hands; the soft feel of it undoing the last tiny bit of reserve between them. He pulls her hard against him, bringing her up on tiptoe and kisses her.

It is soft, tender, and sweet at first, but when they both seek more, warm embers quickly become flames that dance through their bodies igniting other desires that have been ignored for far too long. Long moments later, although she's aching for more, just before their hands begin to wander, Mac gently breaks the kiss and lowers her head; trying to catch her breath.

"Hey." he whispers; misunderstanding and placing a gentle finger under her chin. He lifts her face tenderly and searches her eyes as he loosens his grip around her waist; giving her the option to step away if she wants.

She doesn't move away. It is desire, and not doubt, that he sees in those deep eyes looking back at him.

"I need to stop for now." She whispers to him, breathlessly. "But later okay…" She inhales; waiting for his answer.

"Later?" He asks, making sure he understands.

"Yeah… later Flyboy." She smiles at him and nudges his thigh with the curve of her hip.

He flashes her that old familiar grin. "Okay, later." He agrees quietly. "But what do you want to do now?

She offers him her hand, and when he takes hold she says, "Come with me, there's someone I want you to meet."