Title: Turn Back the Clocks

Summary: A post-Paraguay story. Mac is forced into counseling, and comes to terms with Paraguay, Harm, and her life in general.

Notes: I've made Harm eat meat before and have been questioned on it. So, here is my stance on his diet: I don't think he's a vegetarian (we know for a fact he eats seafood, so at most a pescatarian). I think he's just a healthy eater, who avoids fast food. I can see him eating meat occasionally (probably organic), and I see him definitely making something hearty for Mac at this early point in their relationship.

Part Nineteen - Harm

I have to admit that I'm a little bit nervous.

Mac will be here any moment, and I take a moment to glance around my apartment. It looks nice. Inviting. Not like I've been gone for months. And even though it's December and unbelievably cold, I've had the windows open all day so it doesn't smell like I've been gone for months. Although I'm sure the candles on the dining table and coffee table are helping too. Everything is clean, the lighting is low, and I'm reminded of how long it has been since I've had a woman over like this.

And now that I'm thinking about it, I think the last woman I had a candlelit dinner with may have been Mac before we left for the tribunal. That night was pleasant, but hopefully this one will be even better.

There's a light knock on the door, and I take a breath before going to answer it. She's right on time of course, and looks incredible. She's always been an attractive woman, but at some point over the past eight or so years she's gone from nice looking to stunning. We both stand there awkwardly, which I know is ridiculous. Two nights ago, I had my mouth and my hands all over her, and now I'm not sure how to greet her. A kiss? A hug? I don't want it to be too much, but she's always been insecure, and I don't want to seem uninterested.

Thankfully she puts me out of my misery and reaches up on her tiptoes to kiss me. The kiss is soft, just a gentle brush of her lips over mine, but it relaxes me just a bit. I put a hand on her waist and squeeze gently. She pulls away from me, and I go to help her with her coat, and then take it from her.

"I'll hang this up. Make yourself comfortable." She nods, and I take a few steps to the tiny coat closet. When I turn back, she's leaning against the kitchen counter, her attention on me. "What?"

She shrugs and then smiles. "You're nervous."

"A little." I make my way to the island and stand in front of her. "Aren't you?"

"A little." She tentatively places her hands on my chest. She watches as I glance down, taking in her delicate hands, then lifting my gaze to meet her eyes. She swallows. "It's not like you to be nervous. You're usually so suave when it comes to women."

"You're not just any woman." She blushes, and I grin. I know she isn't testing me, or fishing for a compliment – that isn't really her style. But my answer pleased her, and it makes me feel good. And it's a good reminder - she isn't just any woman. She means something to me. What we have the potential to be means something to me. I haven't been in love in a very long time, and I've never been in love like this. I loved Diane. I'm not going to deny that. But it didn't feel like this. We were both so young, and everything seems a little easier when you're in your twenties. What I feel for Mac is so different. It's more powerful, more consuming. I cover her hands with mine, and lean in to kiss her. Her mouth opens to me, and I have to fight to hold back a moan. It would be so damned easy to lose myself in her, but I pull back and run my fingers over her jaw.

"I need to check on dinner." My voice is just above a whisper. She takes a breath and nods, dropping her hands back to her sides. I turn around and once my back is to her, I briefly close my eyes. It was just a kiss, a simple kiss, and I'm ready to throw all self-control out the window. I give the sauce a quick stir, and then turn the heat on underneath a large cast-iron skillet.

"What are you making?"

I glanced over my shoulder and watched her drag a cucumber slice through the bowl of freshly made hummus. I turn my attention back to the skillet and pour in a little oil. "It's a lamb stew with ginger and pomegranate." I hold my hand over the skillet to test its warmth before picking up a piece of flattened dough. "And some naan, just because."

"It sounds wonderful. Is there anything I can do?"

"No, it's all under control."

We're both quiet for the next few minutes while I make the naan, but the silence isn't uncomfortable. I'm finally done and move the warm bread to the cutting board. I brush each piece with garlic butter, sprinkle them with salt, and then cut them into smaller pieces. She watches me the whole time, and I can almost see her drooling. There very are few things this woman loves more than warm carbs. I toss the naan pieces into a basket and push it to her. I watch as she picks up a piece and takes a generous bite. Her eyes close briefly, and I feel a rush of pleasure.

"It's so good, Harm." She takes another bite and I grin. She swallows and smiles at me. "I don't even need the stew, I'm happy with the bread."

I laugh and reach for my own piece. "The stew will be worth it. I promise."

There's a knock on the door, and she raises an eyebrow. "Are you expecting someone?"

I shake my head. "No. You're the only one who knows I'm back." I grab a hand towel and wipe off my fingertips. "I'll be right back." I open the door, and can't help but smile at my youngest neighbor on the other side - Marcus Holt, a six-year-old spit fire with bright eyes and a mischievous smile who lives with his grandmother.

"Mr. Harm! You're here!" He turns his head and calls out to the empty stairwell. "He's back, nana! He's back!"

"Hush, Marcus. You'll wake up the whole neighborhood."

"How can I do that when we're already awake?"

I laugh and peak into the hallway. Delores Holt was coming around the corner, moving much slower than her grandson. "What can I do for you guys?"

"Nana's car won't start," Marcus started. "She told me to turn off the inside light, but I forgot. She was going to call the car guys to come start it, but I told her we should just ask you instead. She tried to tell me you weren't home, but I heard music coming from your door when I was coming home from school earlier, so I knew you were. I told her you were, and I was right." He turned to look at his grandmother. "I was right, nana."

She finally approached them and stood behind them, placing her hands on Marcus' shoulders. "You were right, sweetheart. Now, let's stop talking for one minute so Mr. Harm can say something." She looks up with hopeful eyes and I smile.

"I have jumper cables in my car. I'm happy to help." I turn around and look at Mac. She's watching the scene curiously, and I grab my coat out of the closet. "I'll be right back. Save me a piece of the bread."

She smirks. "No promises."

Marcus peeks around me, and takes in the lit candles and the beautiful woman. He looks up me, a curious expression on his little face. "Is that your girlfriend, Mr. Harm?"

I glance at Mac, and she raises her eyebrows. I grin and slide into my coat and grab the keys. "Yeah, Marcus. She is." I watch as her cheeks go pink. "I shouldn't be long," I say to her. She nods, and I let Marcus grab my hand and tug me towards his grandmother's car.

I open the door to my apartment about ten minutes later. Mac is now standing at the bookshelf, her finger moving over the titles. "Hey."

She turns and looks at me. "Hi. Everything okay?"

I nod. "Yeah. The chatterbox and his grandmother are on their way to his karate class." I watch her come back into the kitchen, and then turn my attention to the stew. I give it another stir, and then raise the wooden spoon to my lips. I can feel her eyes on me, and after I take a small taste, I hold the spoon out to her. "What do you think?"

She swallows and nods. "It's delicious."

"Glad you like it. Ready to eat?" She nods and we begin to dish up the food. She helps by scooping a little of the pearl couscous into each bowl, and I add the stew. Then I garnish each bowl with some chopped parsley and pomegranate seeds and carry them over to the table. She grabs the basket of naan, and a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge and joins me.

"This is amazing, Harm. Thank you."

I look down at my own bowl of food, and then smile at her. "Thanks."

"I never knew you liked lamb."

I shrug and eat more of my dinner. "I don't eat it often. But Frank made this one night while I was in La Jolla and I really enjoyed it. And when thermostat hit 23 degrees today, I thought it was a good choice for tonight."

"Perfect choice." We eat, and make small talk between bites of stew and naan. Once dinner is finished, she helps me tidy the kitchen, and then we make our way to the living room. I sit and I watch with amusement as she unzips her boots and pulls her legs beneath her on the couch. She slants towards me, and I move one hand to her thigh before I finally give into my desire to kiss her.

This time I don't suppress my moan when her mouth opens and her tongue moves against mine. This time I don't pull away, and I let my hand move from her thigh to her waist, and then slip beneath her sweater. She shifts next to me and moves closer, never breaking the kiss. Once my hand moves over her breast, she pulls back.

Instinctively I start to apologize for moving too quickly, but then she grabs the hem her sweater and tugs it over her head. But before I can touch her, she moves so she's straddling me. There are two layers of thick denim between us, but I'm so hard it would be impossible for her not to notice. I watch her for a moment, and I'm just floored at how goddamned beautiful she is. Then I bring my hands to her face, forcing her to look at me.

"I love you."

She smiles softly and lowers her face to mine. She kisses me gently, and then pulls back. "I love you too."

I absolutely love the way those words sound coming from her; it feels so much better than I had always imagined it would. I grin, and finally move my hands back to her lace-covered breasts. "Want to go to the bedroom?"

She shakes her head. "Maybe later." She pushes away from me and stands, before moving her fingers to the button on her jeans. I watch as she pushes them past her hips and down her shapely legs and feel myself get harder. She kicks them aside and is left in nothing but a lace bra and panties. I quickly stand and pull off my own clothes, and smile as she pushes me back to the sofa and climbs on top of me.

"I meant to be a little bit more gentlemanly than that."

She snorts and places a kiss on my chest. "Hey, I climbed on top of you first."

"Yeah, but I kissed you first," I say. I run my fingers over a nipple. "And touched you first."

"So? Maybe you just wanted to cop a feel. I'm the one who started taking off their clothes."

I tighten my grip on her and smile as she nestles even closer to me. "You know, if I had my way, you would never, ever wear clothes. Ever." She laughs again, and it's such a good sound.

"That would make work, therapy, going out to dinner, whatever, a little uncomfortable." Her fingers move through my chest hair and I close my eyes. "Just imagine going for ramen and spilling some of the broth."

"Okay, okay." I say and I squirm at the thought. I shift and prop up on an arm to look at her. She's absolutely radiant right now, and I feel inordinately pleased that she looks like this because of me. I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and then trail my fingers down her neck. "No clothes once we're alone and settled in for the night."

"Deal."

I run my fingers over her arm. Touching her has already become one of my obsessions. Her skin is unbelievably soft, and every so often my touch makes her shiver. And I absolutely love that. I love learning these new, intimate things about her. I think back on our phone call last night, and how she had asked me what my favorite color was. It had come out of nowhere, but I had answered. It's blue, obviously. And not because of the Navy or anything like that. But because everyone has told me how nice I look in blue – any shade of blue – throughout my entire life. At some point I started picking the color purposefully to elicit compliments from girls, and to please my mother and grandmother. At some point it had become my favorite color. I want to know more about her, I want to know everything about her. And I want to start with something as innocuous as she did. I think for a moment, my fingers still trailing over her skin.

"What's your favorite book?" I ask, and it's a little awkward to have just blurted something out like that when the room had been so quiet.

She raises an eyebrow, but humors me. "It depends on my mood." She moves a hand to the base of my neck, and her fingertips toy with the ends of my hair. "But if I had to pick just one favorite, it would be either Little Women or To Kill a Mockingbird."

"Really?" She nods, and I have to admit that surprises me. She always had a book with her when we travel, but it was always something by Tom Clancy or Nelson Demille. "That's surprising. I've only ever seen you read thrillers."

She shrugs and her cheeks pinken just a bit. "Those books don't pull me in the way the classics do." She smiles, but it's a shy smile, and I feel a little guilty that I've made her self-conscious. I start to apologize, but surprises us both and keeps talking. "I read both of those books when I was really young, and I would have given anything to be in those families. I would have loved to have had a mother like Marmie, or to have had sisters like the March sisters. Or a father like Atticus." She swallows hard. "Those families obviously had their struggles, but the parents were principled and really loved their kids."

I nod, understanding. "Yeah, they did."

She shifts on the couch, and ends up beneath me. She runs her hands over my back, and looks at me with her remarkable eyes. "I didn't mean for things to get so serious."

I brush her hair off of her face and lower my lips to hers. I pull back after a moment and smile. "It's okay. If we want this to work…" I trail off, when the light in her eyes dims slightly, "and I really want this to work, we're going to have to get into the heavy stuff."

"I know, but right now we're both naked, and I'm happy and satisfied, and I don't want this moment to be about anything other than us."

I kiss her quickly and then maneuver my long body off of her and the couch and stand. I watch her eyes unashamedly take me in. She likes what she sees, and I can't help the cocky grin that spreads over my face. I hold out a hand to help her up. "Come on. My back can't take much more of the couch."

Sarah MacKenzie is in my bed. She's in my bed, wrapped in my sheets. Our legs are tangled together, our fingers are twined. Every word out of her name is either a breathy version of my name or a low moan; and I never, ever want this moment to end.

The other night was good. It was more than good, actually. But it was so new, and the first night is always a little awkward. And based on the noises she's making now, she was definitely holding back that first night. She pulls her hands from mine, and wraps them around my back, holding me tight. Her breathing is fast, and judging by the way she's arching up to meet me, I know she's on the edge. A small part of me wants to slide my hand in between us, and help her get to where she needs to be, but I don't. I'm feeling selfish, and I desperately want her to finish with me.

"God, Harm. Harder. Please."

The words come out almost as a sob, and I close my eyes. I'm so, so close and I give her what she wants. She makes a noise that's part sob, part gasps, and digs her nails into my back as she begins to tremble. I get what I wanted and finish with her, and then I collapse. I try to roll off of her, conscious of my weight on her, but she holds me in place.

"Don't go. Not yet."

I nod, and manage to prop myself up on my forearms. We both take a moment to get our breathing under control, and then she moves her arms, and lets me move to her side. I get up briefly to dispose of the condom, and then I crawl back into bed next to her.

"You don't need to use protection if you don't want to." Her voice is soft, almost shy, and I turn to face her. "I was tested after…" She trails off, and I nod, understanding. I know she doesn't want to bring his name into this moment.

I feel ashamed that I haven't been tested since that night with Catherine. I swallow, remembering the ugliness of that night. "I haven't been tested in a while. But I'll do it ASAP." She nods, and I pull her close. "Stay the night?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah." I pull the covers up over us both. "As long as you'll have time to get to work in the morning."

"It'll be fine. My apartment is on my way to the office from here." We both fall silent, and I feel like the mood in the room has changed with the mention of work. She hasn't asked what I'm going to do next, but I'm sure she's curious. I would be if I were her. And as if she can read my mind, she sits up, pulling the sheet with her. "Have you thought about that, yet? About work?"

I can't help but smile and wonder if this is another manifestation of her psychic ability. "Kind of. I'll be right back." I kiss her shoulder and walk back into the living room. I return with a folder and hand it to her. I climb back into the bed, and watch as she opens it. Her brow furrows and she looks up at me.

"Your work is going to be a really old, decrepit house?"

I snort. "Yeah. Kind of. I bought it, and I'm going to fix it up."

She's looking at me as if I just told her I'm now on an exclusive cheeseburger diet. Her tongue darts out to moisten her lips, and I know she's trying to phrase her question as diplomatically as possible. I take the folder and decide to put her out of her misery.

"I honestly don't know what I want to do yet. I know I don't want to be a commercial pilot, and I…" I take a deep breath. "I don't love being a lawyer. I like the investigative part, and I liked the courtroom theatrics," I say, trying to hide my grin. She rolls her eyes at me and I smile. "But I hate the rules and the paperwork and at least 75% of what comes with the job." She nods, and I feel a little more relaxed. "I'm almost forty, and my next career will probably be it. I want to make sure I pick something I enjoy."

"Yeah, I get that. But why a house? You have a perfectly good apartment, and I…" She trails off and something clicks in my head. She thinks I'm buying this house to live in, which is problematic for the future since she just bought her dream house.

"Oh, this isn't for me to live in." I see her relax, and I rifle through the folder and pull out a list of property values for the rest of the neighborhood. "I'm going to fix it up and either sell it or keep it as a rental property. I haven't decided yet." I hand her the printout, and wave my hand around my apartment and shrug. "I really enjoyed fixing this place up, and I thought it would be a good way to keep me busy while I decide what's next. And it's a really terrible house in an amazing area. Since I can do most of the work myself, I thought it would be a good investment."

"Will you be okay…" She blushes and clears her throat. "Will you be okay financially?"

I think back to when inquired about her finances, and feel my face heat. God, I was such an asshole. "Yeah. Like you, I've lived well beneath my means all these years. This place is paid for, so I don't have rent or a mortgage. The Lexus is paid off. I mainly just have the upkeep for Sarah, and living expenses, and I have plenty in savings." I close the folder and place my hand on it. "I have a trust from Frank, and life insurance money from my dad that mom put aside for me. I've only dipped in to it once, and that was to buy this place. So, I figure I'll use that again for funding for the house."

We both go quiet again, and it feels like an eternity before she lets out a breath. "And you're sure about the Navy? It's been months. I bet he's calmed down by now if you want to go back."

He. The man who sent her to that godforsaken place and then was willing to let her die there. "He actually offered." Her eyes widen and I shrug. "I think he came to me right after you resigned. I told him no; that I needed a fresh start away from JAG and the Navy."

"And you're sure? You're sure you're not going to regret this someday?"

I nod. "There was a time when I would have given anything for him to ask me back. But when it actually happened…" I shrug again. "I served proudly. And I don't regret a single minute of it. But I really am ready for a fresh start."

End Part 19