Disclaimer: They're not mine, unfortunately. However, if Donald Bellisario were to offer me a position on JAG's writing staff... (hint, hint!)

Spoilers: If it's in an episode, it's considered fair game.

A/N: Once again, thank you to everyone for the reviews! They really make my day, and I enjoy reading your comments. :-)

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

1302 Zulu; JAG Headquarters; Falls Church, Virginia

Dropping back into her chair, Mac took a sip of steaming tea and watched her computer boot up for the day ahead. It was her usual routine: pick up messages, set down briefcase, hang up coat, grab coffee, turn on computer, open briefcase, and get to work. With the exception of times when she'd been out on assignment or attending one of Admiral Chegwidden's early morning briefings, she had followed the same schedule every day for the nine years she'd been at JAG. The only two things that had changed in recent months had been the substitution of tea for coffee and that her morning commutes were now shared with Harm.

She set down her mug and reached for her briefcase. Flipping it open, she was surprised to find a thick white envelope included with the large stack of paperwork. It certainly hadn't been there when she'd packed up her files at home the previous evening. Seeing her name written on the front of the package, she succumbed to curiosity and looked inside.

The envelope contained a stack of glossy photographs and a short handwritten note. Her eyes skimmed over the plain piece of paper:

Mac,

Pictures sometimes reveal things we wouldn't necessarily recognize otherwise. Keeping that in mind, I think you and Harm may find the enclosed pictures enlightening. Hopefully they'll help you see what is already so apparent to the rest of us.

Love always,

Mattie

With a slight frown, Mac set the note aside and picked up the photographs. On top was the picture Mattie had taken in the foyer on New Year's Eve immediately before they'd left for the party with Trish and Frank. Lips curling upward at the memory, Mac shuffled the photo to the back of the pile and refocused her attention on the rest of the pictures. They were all from New Year's – she and Harm in the limo, standing next to the ice sculpture in the hotel lobby, dancing together. She vaguely recalled posing for a few of the shots, but many of them appeared to have been taken candidly. Mattie must've gotten the photos from Trish, smiled Mac to herself.

"Good morning, Colonel. Am I interrupting?"

Glancing up, Mac saw Commander Sturgis Turner standing in her office doorway.

"Not at all." She smiled, beckoning for him to enter. "I suppose you want to talk about the Franklin Article 32 hearing?"

He took a seat in one of the chairs opposite her desk. "If you have a moment. Are those holiday pictures?"

"New Year's Eve," she nodded.

"May I?" Taking the photographs from Mac's outstretched hand, Sturgis carefully flipped through them. His expression remained impassive as he pulled one out of the group and handed it back to her. "This one's pretty good. Who was the photographer?"

"Harm's stepfather," she answered. Looking at the print, a twinge of dismay swept through her as she realized why he had singled it out. The photo had been taken while she and Harm were on the dance floor at midnight, arms wrapped around each other in a visibly consuming kiss. Fighting off the inward shiver of desire that arose at the memory, she looked back at her colleague. "He was taking pictures most of the evening."

"There's a shutterbug in every family," Sturgis nodded knowingly as he returned his gaze to the pictures in his hand. "I can't help but notice, though, that all of these seem to be of you and Harm. How are things going between you?"

"Fine." Sometimes Sturgis was too damned observant for his own good.

"Just 'fine'? If I didn't know better, Mac, I'd say that these pictures are of a couple very much in love. Are you sure there isn't anything you'd care to share?" He glanced up at her, careful to keep his features neutral and his amusement to himself. This was too much fun!

"Nothing other than Mattie picked them out. You know how it goes, Sturgis – she's a typical teenage girl." The baby kicked, and Mac involuntarily smoothed a hand over her tummy. "When you're sixteen, you tend to have an overly romanticized view of the world," she said wryly.

"Maybe she's more perceptive than you give her credit for," he reasoned, leaning forward. His voice lowered confidentially. "You once told me you were in love with Harm. Do you still feel the same way?"

"This really isn't the right time—"

"It's a simple question, Mac."

"Sturgis—"

"Are you still in love with him?" he repeated.

"Yes."

Her eyes widening at the whispered admission, Mac caught Sturgis' gaze for a split second before glancing away towards the bullpen behind him. Thankfully, no one appeared to have overheard her through the open doorway.

"Has it ever occurred to you that Harm might feel the same way?"

"I know he cares for me a great deal," she hedged. "I should hope he would, considering that we're having a baby together. But in a romantic sense... no, I don't think that Harm feels the same way for me that I do for him."

"Try again, Colonel. Can you honestly look at these and not see two people madly in love with each other?" he countered, waving the envelope of pictures for emphasis. Then his voice softened. "Your happiness could be right around the corner, if you'd only reach out and grab for it. What are you so afraid of?"

Exhaling slowly, she dropped her gaze back to the image of Harm kissing her. Sturgis was correct – they did look happy. All of the prints Mattie had selected showed a man and woman who appeared blissfully and completely absorbed in each other. "I wish it were that easy," she muttered with a flick of her wrist. The photo landed quietly before her on the desk.

"As my father always says, 'Love is only as complicated as we make it'. However you choose to interpret that is up to you."

They fell silent for a few moments. Sturgis' eyes twinkled as he gave Mac time to absorb on what he'd just told her. Finally, she took a deep breath and looked at him squarely.

"I believe you wanted to talk about the Franklin case?" she asked, purposely steering the dialogue back to more professional matters. The personal discussion was over.

Opening his mouth to reply, Sturgis was cut off by a knock on the door behind him.

"Sorry to interrupt," Harm apologized as he leaned into the room, one hand on the jamb. "I've got to head down to Quantico this morning and probably won't be back until later in the evening. Do you need anything before I go?"

"No, I'm good." Suddenly self-conscious of Sturgis' watchfulness, Mac shook her head. "Still picking me up at Bud and Harriet's after the shower tonight?"

"Count on it." Harm's flyboy grin practically lit up the room.

"Drive safely."

"Always." Giving a playful wink at her shy smile, he pushed off from the doorframe and disappeared from view.

Sturgis observed the entire interchange with mute fascination. How much longer are they going to continue to delude themselves? he wondered. Shaking his head, he raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "If that's not a man in love..."

"Sturgis—" she warned.

"Fine, fine." He chuckled, lifting his hands in mock surrender. "I know better than to push the buttons of an annoyed Marine."

Mac just rolled her eyes.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

To be continued...

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---