DISCLAIMER: in the first chapter...

A/N: So... I went through a bit of writer's block where this story was concerned, but it suddenly came to me while at work and I decided to pick it back up. I will try my hardest to keep a somewhat regular schedule of updates as I do in my other stories. Hope you guys haven't given up on me yet. REVIEW!

This is to all of those who didn't loose faith that I might update one day.

CHAPTER 21: AND... ACTION!

Harm was tall; no one could argue that fact. But Harm had also a very imposing figure. That, coupled with his height and natural charms, demanded attention upon himself at all times. That, however, was not the reason Harmon Rabb was drawing so much attention at that particular moment, as he methodically walked from one side of the courtroom to the other. The enthrallment of the jury was mostly due to the passionate speech about men that choose to disregard authority for a greater good he was in the middle of.

It was then, that the thought suddenly crossed his mind.

Harm paused midstep, the last of his words dying upon his lips.

Why hadn't they thought of it before? It had already been two months since their arrival – so to speak - in the past. Or had they thought of it before? Due to the increasing blanks in the memories of the future, it became hard for him to really remember and he soon gave up trying. It didn't really matter.

"Commander?"

The important thing was that he remembered it now and Harm was bound determined to do something about it.

"Commander Rabb!"

He finally came out of his contemplations and glanced up, right at Captain Morrison disapproving glare. The good judge always followed his moves suspiciously when in the courtroom; he never quite overcame that shooting the courtroom ceiling incident.

"I apologize, your Honor."

"Have you finished your closing arguments, councilor?"

"Yes, sir." And, with that, he turned back to the jury, offered them one last piercing gaze and solemnly returned to his seat, wishing desperately for the gavel to hit wood.

When the jury left to deliberate, Harm got up, paused only long enough to offer his client a few reassuring words and made his way, as fast as his long legs could without breaking into a run, to the bullpen. His eyes scanned the crowd of blue and green uniforms eagerly and, there! Mac had just disappeared into the break room. Briefcase was quickly left, read tossed, in his office and off he went after his beloved.

Once inside, his eyes met her inquisitive ones. "Are you alright, flyboy?"

"I'm wonderful, Mac! Because it's four percent. I mean, it has to be more than four percent now!"

Her uncomprehending eyes remained fixed on his, but now a touch of worry lingered amid her brown orbs. "Are you sure you're okay, Harm?"

He was smiling too widely, his veins filled with too much adrenaline and excitement, to really be able to form proper sentences. So, instead, he stepped forward and caught her in his arms. "Sarah, we gained almost three years and maybe if we catch it earlier, our chances increase! We can finally go halves on a b..."

Realization dawned and Mac couldn't help the twinge of hope that surged through her body.

A baby.

Hope and happiness were overshadowed by panic and Mac quickly covered her stickboy's blabbering mouth before he could say the word out loud.

"Harm, maybe we should discuss this later."

Confusion, on his part, lasted only a millisecond. Blue eyes glanced sideways and caught their commanding officer's semi-amused, definitely disapproving face. He slowly released his hold on Mac and took a step backwards, back ramrod straight. He tried his best not to look like he had been caught in an uncompromising position.

"Sir."

"Commander." Formal nods were exchanged and Admiral Chegwidden made his way to the exit, coffee mug firmly in one hand. "I don't want to know as long as you keep it out of the office."

A chorus of 'yes, sir!' was immediately heard.

--------

Being Commanding Officer might have had it's perks, but Admiral Chegwidden considered that it brought more headaches than anything else. Oh, and never ending paperwork, of course. He was occupied with said paperwork, when there was a soft knock on the wooden door.

"Come in!"

"Sir, we have received a letter I think you should see."

"Letter, Tiner?" Correspondence was brought every morning and afternoon after being properly scanned and sorted by his yeoman first. For Tiner to interrupt him, it must have been important. His young face, seemingly preoccupied, certainly seemed to indicate that. "Bring it to me."

"Yes, sir."

A chill went down his spine when he read the first lines of the page long letter. Before he could bring himself to finish reading it, AJ glanced up and met his yeoman's eyes. "Tiner, who was the letter addressed to?"

"To the JAG headquarters, sir."

"And the return address?"

"An empty parking lot, sir. I've already checked."

"Okay." AJ grabbed the telephone handset and put it between his ear and his shoulder. "I don't want anyone else to hear about this, am I clear?"

Tiner came instantly to attention. "Yes, sir!"

"Very well. You may be excused"

AJ heard the door click shut behind Tiner, but he didn't bother to look. He was too busy dialing the phone.

"Heaven help us." his office seemed to answer his plea with unnerving silence that was broken by the voice at the other end of the line. "I need your help and don't even think of saying no."

Heaven help them indeed.

--------

"Bud, you busy?"

Bud Roberts, who had just returned from court and was opening the door to his office, turned around to face his wife, blonde Lieutenant Harriet Sims. He smiled, finished entering his office and held the door open for Harriet.

"No, not right now. Come in, Harriet." He placed his briefcase on top of the neat desk and waited for her to close the door. "What do you need?"

"Have you seen Clayton Webb entering the Admiral's office the day before yesterday?" He shook his head in the negative. "Well, he went in there with that superior look of his and spent the whole afternoon!"

"Harriet, is that what you wanted to talk to me about. Webb?" Bud seemed amused by his wife gossipy tendency, but remained unworried. Seeing Webb at JAG wasn't all that uncommon.

"Yes! Something's going on, Bud. The Commander and the Colonel both took the day off today and Webb showed up today again and is in with the Admiral who ordered they should not be disturbed under any circumstances. Something fishy is going on."

Bud's amusement wavered. Could Harried be seeing dragons instead of windmills or was there something to her suspicion, he found himself wondering. "What do you think it is?"

"I don't know. But my instinct tells me it has to do with the Colonel and the Commander. They have been acting strangely lately, too." Harriet's eyes were staring off into space, as if seeing something in her own mind

"Yes, they have. Ever since that incident at the Admiral's office. Where do you think all that blood came from?" There had been so much of it and the Admiral had been performing CPR when Tiner had answered his call for help, which must have meant the Commander hadn't been able to breathe, even if for just a moment.

"I don't know and I didn't want to pry, but all of a sudden, the Colonel broke her engagement with Mic and changed her hair and the Commander's been having these strange episodes..." Bud nodded in agreement.

"Yes, it's very strange. Some weeks ago he was asking all these questions about science fiction and time travel and I never quite understood why. And he was delivering his closing arguments the other day and the Commander just paused and stared into space. Captain Morrison had to call him several times before he answered." Harriet's look of suspicion turned to one of worry.

"You don't suppose the Commander is sick, do you?"

A matching look of worry descended upon Bud's round features. "I hope not."

Webb was momentarily forgotten.

--------

"Sarah, how can you be so calm?"

She wasn't. Sarah Mackenzie might have looked the part, with her legs neatly folded to the side, her hands resting on her lap and her eyes staring unpreocupied at the poster hanging by the wall in front of where their seats were, but she was beyond being a nervous wreck. Mac wasn't calm or composed, she was defeated. All the excitement Harm's words had brought to the surface that day in the break room had been forced down; she refused to allow herself to hope. Disappointment was so much worse when you dared hope.

"Harm, please. Stop fidgeting. We are going to talk to the doctor, then go through the necessary exams and then we are going to here what she has to say about it. Before then, I am not going to even think about it."

No more words were needed. Harm could still remember that Christmas Eve, when her car had hit the tree - receiving that vague and horrible telephone call was on his list of worse things that could have happened in his life. It was in the last hours of the night before Christmas, while he sat by her side, that Mac had finally opened up about the endometriosis and told him about the doubts and insecurities she had chosen to keep to herself the night of Admiral Chegwidden's farewell party. So, he understood her reluctance to hope.

Knowing words of reassurance would sound empty, Harm pushed all his own nervousness aside, leaned back on his seat and pulled her to rest against him. "Okay, Mac. We'll wait. In the meantime, you just remember that I am here... Always."

Mac offered him a watery smile and allowed her head to rest on his shoulder. She drew more comfort and strength through that hug than anything else he might have offered. Sometimes, it was nice to be reassured physically that he was real and absolutely hers.

"Sarah Mackenzie" The nurse was thin and older looking and had a kind face as she scanned the small crowd in the waiting room of Bethesda Hospital for the face to go with the name she had just read off the chart.

Harm and Mac, both without uniforms, rose together, hands entwined, and followed the nurse.