Title: Meeting in a Rose Garden

Summary: Mac reconnects with someone she knew in law school. (West Wing Crossover) (Mac/Other, Mac/Harm friendship)

Part Nine

"Harm kissed me on Christmas Eve."

Harm's late-night visit and kiss had been weighing on her, as did the realization that she was in love with Sam. And now she wasn't sure what to do next. Relationships needed total honesty – something she realized all of hers had been sorely lacking. But did Sam really need to know about the kiss? It didn't mean anything to her, and she didn't see the point in upsetting him by telling him about it. But it weighed on her. After her kiss with Harm on the Admiral's porch, she hadn't felt like this. She knew what she had done was wrong, but the kiss had meant something. And she knew that she would never, ever tell Mic about it. But this time she felt like she needed to come clean with Sam.

Mac watched his back stiffen, and watch his movements slow. He turned to face her, and she felt sick. The color had drained from his face, and his expression broke her heart. She moved to him, and he took a step back, backing into the counter. "I'm sorry to have just blurted it out like that."

"You and Harm kissed."

His voice was flat and she winced. "No, he kissed me."

He crossed his arms over his chest and studied her. "Does that matter?"

She moved closer to him, knowing this time he couldn't retreat further. "It matters, Sam. He kissed me. It was a surprise." She reached out and put her hand on his forearm. "I didn't want it to happen."

He shrugged her hand off and moved to the side, heading towards the coat rack. She reached for him again, and grabbed his hand. He tried to shake her off again, but she held on tight. "Let go."

She shook her head. "No. Not until we talk."

"We have nothing to talk about. You kissed someone else."

"He kissed me."

"The technicalities don't matter."

Mac didn't let go of his hand, knowing he would be out the door in a second if she did. But she moved closer to him and placed a hand on his chest. "It does matter. I've kissed him before. I've wanted to be kissed by him before. This time wasn't like that. It didn't mean anything, and I pushed him away the second I realized what was happening-"

He twisted, and her hand fell from his chest. "If it didn't mean anything, why are you telling me? If it truly meant nothing, I would have been completely happy not knowing."

She shrugged. "I don't know. We've talked so much about the importance of honestly, I felt like I had to tell you."

Sam finally managed to jerk his hand free and grabbed his coat. "Well, I wish you had kept this to yourself."

He had started to head home. It was the obvious conclusion. He had been in California with his parents for nearly six days, and that took a toll. Ever since his dad's long-term mistress had come to light, his relationship with both parents had been strained. He was angry at his father for obvious reasons, and angry with his mother because she was so focused on her image in their community, she was willing to put up with her husband's infidelity. She hadn't wanted to give up the only lifestyle she had ever known, or have everyone know that her husband of nearly forty years had been sleeping with someone else for almost thirty of those years.

He hadn't even had time to talk to Sarah about any of this. He had stopped by her place on the way home from the airport. He had been so excited to see her. They had talked on the phone while he had been gone, but between her little sister being there, and then the petty officer who had needed a place to stay for a few days, it hadn't felt like the right time.

Now he was glad he hadn't confided in her about how truly screwed up his parents are. He briefly wondered what kind of family life Harm had.

Harm.

He hated that guy. If she was being honest, and he had kissed her… well. Who did that? Who just kissed someone else's girlfriend? He drove in silence for a few minutes, and then pulled into a parking lot and called information. When he was connected, cleared his throat. "I need the address for a Harmon Rabb. DC area."

A few minutes later, he had the address written down on a slip of paper, and was steering his car down the unfamiliar streets towards Union Station. He pulled up in front of an older building that looked like it had once been a warehouse of some sort. He got out of the car, checked the slip of paper and made his way inside. One look at the ancient elevator had him heading for the stairs, and he took a minute to compose himself before knocking on the door.

Harm opened the door, and sighed. Sam was pleased when he held the door open and stepped back into the apartment. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. "I'm guessing she told you about Christmas."

Sam wasn't a violent guy, but he had never wanted to punch anyone as badly as he wanted to punch Harm right now. "She did."

He nodded. "So?" He waited for the blow he was sure was coming. "Take your shot. I don't regret what I did, but if you want to hit me, go ahead."

Sam's hands clenched into fists, but before he could raise one, he relaxed. He couldn't do this. He couldn't behave this way. He was not going to fight this man. He was not going to get sucked into some sordid love triangle. "I'm not going to hit you."

Harm raised an eyebrow. "Then what are you doing here?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. I think I may have intended to hit you, but what good would that do?" He turned to leave. He would go home and drown his sorrows in that expensive bottle of scotch Toby had given him for Christmas. "I think we both know how this is going to end up. She'll eventually pick you, so we all need to stop making fools of ourselves and just accept our roles in this melodrama."

Harm rolled his eyes. "Talk about dramatic. You're an idiot, you do know that right?"

Sam spun to face him, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed. "Excuse me?"

"If you leave her because of this, you're an idiot. And she's crazy for even telling you in the first place." Harm moved to the kitchen and opened the fridge. He pulled out a beer and popped the cap off. He took a swig, and set the bottle down. "Did you even give her a chance to tell you what happened?"

"I know what happened. You kissed her."

Harm couldn't believe he was going to try to convince this guy not to leave her. But he wasn't doing this for the smug, idealistic man in his apartment. He was doing this for her. She loved him. Man, that had been a punch in the gut when she had said that. He remembered the time he had asked her if she loved Mic, and she told him that he didn't get to ask that. This time instead of giving him a non-answer, she had answered truthfully and with so much sincerity. She loved him. So, he would do this for her. "Yeah. I kissed her. And about two seconds into the kiss, she pushed me away."

Sam shook his head. "It doesn't matter. All three of us know the two of you are going to end up together, and I'm going to get pushed aside. The two of you are constantly thrown together, and I don't see that changing. She made it perfectly clear to me a couple of months ago that I had to accept you being a part of her life. I tried, but I can't. I'm not going to make either of us miserable by pretending I'm okay with your closeness."

Harm listened, and took a minute to study him. He looked dejected, and he actually felt sorry for him. "Did she tell you what else happened that night? Or did you freak out and not give her a chance to explain?" Sam blushed, and he had his answer. He opened the fridge and pulled out another beer, and slid it across the counter towards him. "My father was shot down over Vietnam in 1969." Sam's head shot up; surprise written all over his face. "I searched for him for most of my life. Then a few years ago I got a lead that he survived and was taken to Russia. Mac went with me to find him. We didn't find him. He had died trying to protect her. But we eventually found out that he left more than an old Russian woman behind. He left behind another son. Sergei." Harm gave a half smile and plucked at the label on the beer bottle. "I'm sure your security clearance is higher than mine, but I'm not going to get into all of the particulars. But when we met Sergei, he was in a bad place. And on Christmas Eve, when I was at the wall, a man we know who works with a government agency showed up. With my brother."

"She went to Russia with you?"

He nodded. "Twice." He smiled again, thinking of her in the white nightgown, and of her in the back of the wagon. "If you come to your senses, ask her to tell you about it sometime. It's one hell of a story. So, I brought Sergei here, and we talked for a while, and then he went to sleep. I couldn't sleep. I just sat here thinking about my life and what I wanted next. And the answer was her. So, I went to her, and I kissed her." He watched Sam's expression, and couldn't help but feel pleased he was able to get under his skin as easily as he did. "Then I told her that she and I were supposed to be together, but she turned me down." They locked eyes, and Harm lifted his beer bottle in a sad toast. "She turned me down because of you."

Sam shook his head and reached for the bottle opener. He opened the beer and took a long swig. "I will never feel comfortable with her friendship with you. You're larger than life to her. I'm just a lawyer with a way with words."

Harm shrugged. "Apparently that's what she wants." He took another drink and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm done trying to interfere. She picked you, and I've accepted that. You make her happy."

Sam knocked on her door and waited impatiently for her to open it. He was about to knock again, when it swung open. Her eyes were red from crying, and he felt even worse. "Can I come in?" She nodded and stepped out of the way. "Sarah-"

She shook her head. "Don't. I can't keep doing this, Sam. I can't deal with you getting mad and storming off over some Harm-related catastrophe every few months."

"I'm sorry."

"I know." She rubbed her hands together and then linked them behind her back. "I know you're sorry, but this-" She trailed off. "I don't know. But I know I don't want this. I don't want to be afraid to tell you things because I'm worried you'll storm off and one day you won't come back."

"In my defense, I did come back faster than I did last time."

She narrowed her eyes. "For someone who is supposedly a pretty good lawyer, that's a pretty shitty argument."

"I know. But I have a better one. If you'll let me present it, that is."

She wanted to say no. She wanted to tell him that he hadn't heard her out, and didn't owe him that courtesy. But the words didn't come, and instead she found herself nodding.

"I'm an idiot when it comes to women. Especially when it comes to you. I tend to give up when things get hard. I'm sure a therapist somewhere would say that comes from trying so hard and for so long to make things work with my ex. Now I tend to cut and run as soon as there is a problem. It's still my instinct, but I want to get past that."

Mac crossed her arms over her chest. "That doesn't make me feel any better."

"I know." His tongue darted out to moisten his lips. "I went to see him." He watched her eyes go wide. "I had planned to punch him. But then I got there and my little voice of reason kicked in. And I figured if I punched him, and he pressed charges, it would likely cost me my job. So, I didn't hit him. Instead, he told me about that night, and told me I was an idiot at least half a dozen times."

"He told you about that night?"

Sam nodded. "He told me about his brother, and a little about your adventures in Russia. He told me about that night and how he kissed you, and how you turned him down because of me."

She shrugged and moved to the living room. She collapsed on the sofa and pulled a throw pillow into her lap. "I tried to tell you that myself."

He sat down next to her, and turned to face her. "I know. But I was too jealous and insecure to listen. I'm trying to be okay with him. I really am. But he's intimidating. And knowing that you have feelings for him is terrifying for me. I don't see how I'll ever be enough when he's the alternative."

Mac tried to stay angry, but it was difficult when he was seemingly so damned contrite. "Sam, I don't have feelings for him. I did once, but I don't anymore."

"I believe you." He sighed and dropped his head against the back of her sofa. "I'm so sorry for walking out tonight. That wasn't how I wanted the night to go."

She studied him for a long moment. She had a feeling something big was about to happen, and now she felt nervous. She pulled her legs up, and circled her arms around her knees. "How did you want the night to go?"

He smiled shyly, and she felt herself thaw a little. "I wanted to take you to dinner, talk about our holidays. I wanted to vent to you about my insane family. I wanted to take you to bed. I wanted to give you something."

She frowned. "I told you not to get me anything."

He rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket. "It's a very small, very inexpensive thing." He handed her a small, navy blue drawstring pouch. He watched as she tentatively took it and opened it. She pulled out a nickel sized piece of amethyst sea glass strung on a delicate gold chain. She studied it for a moment, and then met his eyes.

"It's beautiful."

He offered her another shy smile. "My mom is obsessed with sea glass. She and I would hunt for it for hours when I was a little kid." He gestured to the pendant with his chin. "That's the best piece I ever found." He watched her rub her fingers over the glass, and felt confident enough to continue. "I found this in my old room the first day I was home, and for some reason it made me think of you."

"A piece of glass made you think of me?"

He nodded. "You've been through hell, Sarah. And you've come through it stronger and so beautiful. Kind of like a piece of glass tumbled through the ocean for years." He shrugged, feeling self-conscious. "Anyway. I had a local jewelry maker turn it into a something for you."

"Thank you. It really is beautiful."

"You're beautiful. And I'm in love with you." Her eyes met his, and he struggled to remain calm. He hadn't said those words to a woman in such a long time. And he'd only said them to one other woman – his ex-fiancée. It had been different then. He had been different. And for all of the hundreds of times he had said it throughout that relationship, he had never felt it as much as he did right now.

"You love me?"

Her eyes were wide, her voice was barely more than a whisper, and his heart beat a little faster. "God, yes. I've been feeling it for a while, but it hit me like a ton of bricks that night I stopped by when you were sick. I couldn't wait to tell you, and instead-"

"And instead I blurt out that Harm kissed me."

He nodded. "Yeah. I'm so sorry I acted the way I did." He reached out and touched her arm, needing to feel her warmth. "I went to Harm's tonight prepared to punch him, and then prepared to give you up." He shook his head. "But I can't do that. I won't fight him, but I will fight for you."

She shifted on the couch and moved closer to him. She placed her hands on his cheeks, and smiled when he covered her hands with his own. "You don't have to fight for me. You have me." She swallowed. "When Harm kissed me, I pulled away because of you."

"I know that."

Mac shook her head. "He asked me if I loved you. And I told him I did." His eyes brightened, and she couldn't help but smile. "I hadn't even realized it myself until that moment. I love you, Sam." She leaned forward and brushed her lips against hers. He wrapped his arms around her, deepening the kiss. "You can still take me to bed, if you want."

"God, yes." They stood up, and he followed her to her bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

End Part 9