A/N: To my readers who have sent PM's, I have answered everyone, but FF isn't sending notifications that you have received a PM, at least it isn't to me. I don't want you to think I am leaving you hanging. I will be updating other stories as both time and the muse allow. I don't intend to leave any of them unfinished. I just go where the muse does. And right now, it seems to be very focused on this story.


Mac teases, "So I am a featured participant in your dreams, am I?"

Harm smiles, "I thought you would have figured that out already tonight. You are always in my dreams, my thoughts, my visions, my fantasies, my hallucinations, in my plane when I fly... And no, I don't have to hit my head for you to be there."

Mac knows that he has mentioned some of this earlier tonight, but one part of his statement sticks out for her, "In your plane? Flyboy, I don't have many good memories of when I fly with you. I get sick, we get shot at, we have to punch out, we get stranded. Shall I go on?"

Harm shrugs his shoulders, "You may not have luck when you fly with me, but you are my good luck charm when I fly with someone else in the backseat."

Mac asks, "How does that work when I'm not even there?"

Harm smirks and tells her, "I'll show you if you can you hand me my wallet."

Mac walks over to where his clothes are folded on the chair, and brings the requested item to him. He opens it up, and pulls a laminated photo of the two of them from Bud and Harriet's wedding, where they served as best man and maid of honor, from one of the hidden folds. Him in his dress whites, and her in a gorgeous red dress. It's very worn, looks like it has suffered some water damage, and all of the corners are pretty crinkled. He tells her, "This is in the pocket of my flight suit or my jacket every single time I fly, right next to my heart."

Mac is touched by the gesture, and she can't help the lone tear that trickles down her face.

Harm brushes the tear away with the pad of his thumb. He tells her, "I thought about replacing it with a fresh picture, after I put my plane in the drink. But I figured if it survived my night in the Atlantic, it could get me through anything. I couldn't ever let it go."

Mac smiles as she leans down and places a barely there kiss on his lips. She whispers, "Maybe that is what led me find where you were that night. Part of me was already close to your heart, I just had to reach out and touch it."

Harm shrugs his shoulders. He quietly says, "I don't know what magic was in place that night, but something was. I could hear you calling out to me, telling me not to give up and to keep fighting. I could feel your warm tears against my neck, heating the frigid water surrounding the rest of me." He shudders at the mere memory, before audibly yawning.

Mac reaches over and pulls the blanket more firmly around him.

Harm smiles at her motherly gesture, "I thought you were going to climb up here with me?"

Mac acquiesces, "Ok, let me go potty first, and then I will come lay with you. But, if I hear any groaning or grunting out of you like you are in pain, I'm getting out of the bed and sitting back in the chair."

Harm smiles, "But moans of pleasure are okay?"

Mac huffs off towards the bathroom. As usual, he found a way to lighten the moment from the memory of one of their darkest hours. She mutters, "God help me if I ever have a little boy like you!"

Harm chuckles, "I heard that, Marine!"

Mac turns around as she reaches the entranceway to the bathroom, and sticks her tongue out at him. After she shuts the door, she can hear him laughing, "Yep, and that look will be perfect on our two-year-old daughter. I can already picture it now. She will be standing with her legs about shoulders' length apart, both hands fisted resting on her hips, her brown eyes squinted, face scrunched up, and her tongue out."

Mac turns off the sink, and opens the door, leaning against the frame with one hand on her hip.

Harm looks over, "Yep that's pretty much the image, just in a much smaller version."

She walks over to his bed, and says, "Well, I guess we are even then. You will have to deal with a pouty little Marine, and I will have to deal with an insufferable whirlwind that will try to get into as much trouble as he possibly can, just like his Daddy."

Harm chuckles, "Hey! I'm not that much trouble."

Mac gives him the "you have got to be kidding me" look as she climbs into the bed, with her back against his chest so that he can wrap his arms around her. She pulls his blanket around to cover her also, although she isn't sure she will need it with the furnace she is snuggled up against. She places her head on his forearm, using it as her pillow.

Harm can't resist giving her a small kiss directly under her ear as he whispers, "That wasn't the deal, Mac. 'He' is supposed to look like you, and 'she' is supposed to look like me."

Mac feels the shiver run through her, both at his gentle touch and the loving words he is saying. She yawns, "As long as they both have your eyes and your smile, I'll be fine."

Harm smiles behind her, too tired to argue the finer points of their future children's traits now that he is comfortably wrapped around the woman he loves. He can debate that particular subject with her tomorrow. It hasn't even been but a few hours since they finally let the words be spoken that they have kept hidden from each other for so long, and here they are talking about their children again. From the sounds of things, he might be digging a certain velvet box out of his dresser drawer sooner rather than later. For now, all he can muster as he wraps his arms tighter around her in an affectionate squeeze is, "Goodnight, Sarah. I love you."

Mac places her hand on the arm wrapped around her, feeling completely warm and secure in the arms of the man she loves, "I love you too, Harm."

Mac is surprised at how heavy her eyelids feel, normally insomnia is a constant presence in her life. Somehow part of her knows that Harm won't let anything happen to her, and while she is cocooned with him, a sense of contentment settles over her body pushing all the demons that normally invade her sleep away.

CDR Carlyle enters the room a little while later to check Harm's vitals, and is pleasantly surprised to see that Harm's blood pressure, and his resting heart rate, are both near perfect. Now, this generally wouldn't shock her as both are usually slightly under normal when you are resting, but the smile on his face makes her think it is more the company he is sleeping with rather than any physiological reason. Her heart swoons when she sees a matching expression of delight on the Colonel's face as well. She annotates a few more things on his record, and makes a mental note to let Captain Livingston know about his patient's improvement before he makes his morning rounds. It appears that the Colonel is the best form of medicine for him.