Chapter Two
You see, what happened was..

JUNE 3RD, 2001

FIVE WEEKS EARLIER

2145 EST
APARTMENT OF HARMON RABB JR
WASHINGTON D.C

Mic walked away from Mac at the airport at 2104. Now, 45 minutes and 19 seconds after her fiancé left her and took all hopes of things possibly working out between them with him, Lt. Colonel Sarah Mackenzie found herself in the apartment of one Commander Harmon Rabb.

She wasn't really sure how it had all happened. He'd just been the first person she'd thought to call, and she had called him, crying in the middle of the airport. It was a good thing he'd answered too, because she didn't have a backup person to call.

This was actually the second time she'd been to his apartment that night. She'd been there earlier, visiting Harm after he'd finally recovered from his amnesia and been discharged from the hospital. Of course, her and Harm had been discussing their relationship, which had never been anything other than complicated.

Mac hadn't been there long (5 minutes and 53 seconds) when Mic called her with the oh-so-casual news that their engagement was dead in the water and he was heading back to the Land Down Under.

She knew Mic was upset. She knew that he knew the reason she'd pushed back the wedding again was because Harm was hurt. But Mic just didn't get it, she couldn't get married without Harm. And she knew there was no way she could explain that to Mic without him taking it the wrong way.

Even with things as tenuous as they were between them, Mac never expected Mic to just leave, like this had all been a business trip or something. Now the job was done and he was going home. She'd figured she'd catch him at the airport, and they would be able to talk things out. Even if they still ended up breaking things off, they'd at least be able to look each other in the eye and talk, like reasonable adults.

But Mac had been wrong, and for one of the only times in her life, her internal clock had failed her. She was too late. Mic was gone, and she was here.

In Harm's apartment. With Harm. Sitting with him on his couch. After heading back to her apartment to change into civilian clothes (upon reflection, Mac wasn't really sure why she did that. Maybe it was her subconscious trying to tell her that something would happen that night), she'd come back to him in tears, and he'd hugged her while she sobbed for a few minutes. (6 minutes, 29 seconds) Finally she'd been able to compose herself and tell him everything that went on while he was in the hospital. All the stuff between her and Mic. She didn't tell Harm that Mic had essentially broken things off because of him; she figured he inferred that. Plus, it wasn't Harm's fault that Mic was jealous.

All Harm did was be Harm. Mac did the rest on her own.

So, there they were, on the couch. Mac was sitting criss-cross at one end of the couch, a wadded-up ball of toilet paper clutched in her hand to dry her tears because Harm didn't have tissues. Harm was at the other end. The middle couch cushion served as a No Man's Land between them.

"Do you want to watch TV?" he asked in an attempt to break the tense silence that had sprung up between them.

"You don't have a TV."

"I could go out and buy one. Do you want to listen to some music?"

"No."

"Do you want a snack? I may not have tissues but I have snacks."

"I'm not hungry, thanks."

"Would you care for me to serenade you with my guitar?"

"Harm-"

"Okay, okay," he relented, putting his hands up in mock surrender. "I'll stop."

Mac looked down and sniffled. "No, it's okay. You're just trying to help, it's not your fault."

She blew her nose loudly into the wad of toilet paper, which was beginning to become oversaturated with tears and some mucus. Harm got up, and disappeared into his bathroom. He came back a few moments later with a full roll of toilet paper. He presented it to Mac like it was a case file. She took it, tearing a square off and dabbing at her eyes. Harm sat back down, this time on the middle cushion, beside her.

"Thank you," Mac said meekly. She couldn't remember the last time she'd cried this much. Actually, she could. A few months ago, after a particularly stressful work week, she saw one of those ASPCA on TV and ended up crying an embarrassing amount of tears. Apparently her tear ducts believed her engagement ending was the emotional equivalent to Mac's sympathy for abused animals.

"Mac…" Harm started.

She looked up at him. "What?"

"I'm sorry."

Mac laughed bitterly, wadding up the toilet paper square and adding it to the existing pile. "What do you have to be sorry for?" she asked.

"Nothing. I'm just sorry about what happened with Mic. He shouldn't have left you like that."

"I know."

Harm draped his arm across the back of the couch, caging Mac between him and the arm of the couch. Usually Mac wasn't a big fan of people invading her personal space, but she didn't mind with Harm.

"You know," he said. "I think it was for the best."

Mac's eyes darted up in a glare. Harm was her best friend, but she didn't appreciate him making such flippant comments about her engagement. Go get your own engagement to make commentary on, Flybody. "What?"

Harm shrugged. "He went back Down Under where he belongs."

"Harm-"

"You weren't planning on taking his last name, were you? Because Sarah Brumby really doesn't have a nice ring to it-"

"Okay, where do you get off-"

"I hate to say it Mac, but you really were about this close to marrying Steve Irwin's evil twin-"

"What the hell, Harm?"

Mac was about to get up and storm out when she saw the teasing grin on his face. She shoved his shoulder playfully, rewarding him with a small smile for all his comedic efforts.

"I was just trying to get you to smile," he said, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind her hair.

The gesture caught her off guard, his hand lingering there for longer than it took to tuck a piece of her hair back. Mac waited. Waited for him to cup her cheek, waited for him to pull her in for a kiss, waited for him to take her into his arms and ride off with her into the sunset (it would actually be the moonlight, considering it was 2230) with an F-14 Tomcat as his mighty steed.

Mac soon found herself curled up next to Harm, her head resting on his chest. He ended up putting on a record.

"Do you like Elton John?"

"Sure."

She could actually actually care less who it was. She didn't have anything against Elton John; her taste in music was just so primitive that she didn't have an opinion on him and probably couldn't even name one of his songs. This horrified Harm, whose music taste ranged from Frank Sinatra to the Backstreet Boys. (they had the one song that was 'okay', according to him)

Mac did know five songs by The Eagles, but that was only because Harm hammered them into her brain by making her listen to them every time she rode in the car with him. She swore he was going to cry when she told him that she just didn't get 'Hotel California.'

"I can put on Stevie Nicks after this if you want."

She smiled. The one artist she did like-love, actually-was Stevie Nicks. She knew it didn't really count, because everyone liked Stevie Nicks, but that didn't stop Mac from liking her any less. Mac listened to Mariah Carey because Chloe did (Chloe loved Britney Spears too, but Mac couldn't get into her. Same thing with NSYNC), but her first love when it came to music would always be Stevie.

In fact, one of the few arguments Harm and Mac had out of uniform had been about Steive Nicks.

"Harm, I don't care about Lindsey Buckingham's guitar skills, Fleetwood Mac would be nothing without Stevie Nicks."

"I can't even look at you right now."

"What? You know I'm right."

Mic had wanted "Leather and Lace" to be his and Mac's first dance at their wedding, but Mac turned it down, even though it was one of her favorite songs. Her and Harm danced to it at Bud and Harriet's wedding, and in Mac's mind it would always be her and Harm's song.

Once again, just like showing up at his apartment, Mac wasn't really sure how this was happening. She was essentially snuggling Harm 2 hours and 39 minutes after ending her engagement while listening to Elton John leave a yellow brick road. And it won't go any further than snuggling, Mac ordered herself.

Oh, but Harm was so warm! So remarkably warm. Mic wasn't warm the same way Harm was warm. No one was warm the way Harm was warm. And the way Harm had his arms around her, it wasn't anything like Mic, either. Mic had never been a big cuddler, which was a shame because Mac loved to be cuddled.

She knew she should head back to her place, it was getting kind of late. But Harm was so warm!

That was when Mac kissed him, when she couldn't come up with a good enough reason to go home. After all, it wasn't like she had a fiance waiting for her there or anything.

Harm had almost drawn back in surprise, but he ended up returning the kiss. They remained that way for an all-too-short-but-blissful moment, and Mac felt herself almost forgetting everything else about that night.

They broke apart, but Mac went back and kissed him again almost immediately. Soon they were engaged in a full-out, high-school-style makeout session there on his couch. Mac was on his lap, straddling him when Harm suddenly pulled away.

"Mac, wait a minute. Mac-"

She looked down at him, breathing heavily. "Yeah?"

"Are you sure-sure you wanna do this?"

Mac paused. Was she sure she wanted to do this? She looked down at herself. She was wearing her Marine Corps sweatshirt and a pair of leggins, nothing fancy, certainly nothing sexy. She suddenly felt embarrassed, chastising herself for not putting on something just a little bit more sexy, but then she reminded herself that the evening was not going as planned. Not that she was complaining.

"Yes," she said, nodding hurriedly. "I want this."

They kissed again, and something occurred to Mac, causing her to instantly draw back. This time it wasn't about her clothing choices. How stupid could she be? Harm had just gotten out of the hospital. After almost dying. Maybe he wasn't ready.

"What's wrong?" Harm asked.

"How are you?"

"I'm doing pretty good. How about yourself?"

Mac rolled her eyes. "That's not what I meant."

Harm placed one hand on her hip. "What did you mean?"

"I mean, are you okay? You just got out of the hospital-"

"Mac," Harm said. "I got hurt in the head, not the crotch."

"Well I was just making sure-"

"I know, I know," Harm said, reaching up to run his fingers through Mac's hair. "But you'll find that everything is in working order."

"That's good," Mac murmured, kissing him.

"Hopefully everything will be to your satisfaction."

"I'm sure it will be," she said. "I'm sorry for the way I'm dressed, by the way. I would've chosen a better outfit if I knew this would happen."

"It's okay. It's better than seeing you in your wedding dress."

FOUR HOURS LATER

"Was everything to your satisfaction?"

Harm nodded. He was on his back, sweat glinting off his forehead in the moonlight. Mac was sweaty too, but she wasn't nearly as out of breath. She had herself propped up on her elbow, and was looking down at him with the smuggest expression he'd ever seen her wear.

"Did you-did you do gymnastics?" he asked breathlessly. He knew she did martial arts at the gym sometimes, but he wasn't aware it could make someone that flexible.

Mac giggled, running her fingers through the hair on his chest. "Nope," she said, her grin widening.

"How'd you...how'd you do that," Harm made a motion with his hands. "with your legs. Earlier?"

"First or second round?"

"Third."

Mac's brow furrowed in thought. "Hmmm, I'm not really sure," she wondered aloud. "Marines are known for their flexibility, though."

"I don't think they meant that kind of flexibility," Harm said. "Plus, that was more than flexibility, Sarah."

"Gives a whole new meaning to your nickname, huh? Ninja Girl?" she asked him coyly. "Back in Minnesota, the winter's were really long and cold, so I had a lot of time to hole up in my room and perfect my sexual prowess."

She was obviously exaggerating, but Harm couldn't resist going along with it. "So you were that girl in college?"

Mac's mouth dropped open, and she swatted him on the shoulder. "Like you weren't that guy at the Academy."

Harm shrugged. She had a point.

"If you're going to get all sexist on me, I suppose I could just leave," Mac said. She draped one leg across Harm's hips. She heard him inhale sharply and she smiled. He was putty in her hands.

"You don't have to leave."

"Good."

Mac bent down to kiss Harm's jaw at that one spot right below his earlobe. She quickly found out that it was a spot he liked to be kissed. Among other places.

"Hold on, Marine. Stand down," Harm said, gingerly pulling away, forcing Mac's lips to leave the nape of his neck. "If you want four rounds in one night, you need to find a time machine and find me ten years ago."

"You're not old, Harm," Mac quipped, running her fingers through his damp hair. He usually only worked up a sweat like this after a run. She was proud of herself for doing such a number on him,

"I'm not twenty-five, either."

"Could've fooled me."

Harm smiled as Mac snuggled against him, wrapping both arms around his torso and resting her head against his shoulder. He never figured Mac to be a cuddler, but he thanked God that she was.

Renee didn't like cuddling. Jordan did, but she couldn't help but turn Harm's want to spoon her at night into some metaphor for the strained relationship he had with his mother. Which of course made him think of his mother every time he cuddled with Jordan, which made cuddling with Jordan undesirable, to say the least.

Cuddling with Mac was nice. Harm was grateful for that.

His eyes traveled down to his most recent discovery about Mac. Ever since he found out about it, Harm had wondered what Mac's tattoo was. Turns out it was a small pink flower on her pelvis, an inch or so above her left thigh.

"I like the rose," he commented, brushing his thumb across the ink.

Mac snorted. "A rose? You think that's a rose?"

He shrugged. "It's pink, roses are pink."

If Mac was terrible with music, Harm was terrible with flowers. He thought everything was a rose. Or a sunflower. Mac would never forget the time he got a bouquet of pink hydrangeas for Trish one Mother's Day when she was in town thinking they were pink roses. It had been hilarious.

"It's a lotus, Harm."

"Oh. What's a lotus?"

Harm was tracing the outline of the tattoo with his thumb. She'd gotten it when she was nineteen, so the color had faded quite a bit (it didn't help that she'd chosen pastel pink of all colors). She'd been meaning to get it touched up for a while, but hadn't gotten around to it. Maybe she would now.

"It's basically a water lily," she explained. "It's kind of important in Iranian culture."

"You got it for your grandmother?"

Mac nodded. "And for myself, a little. It symbolizes spiritual growth and how someone can find redemption even in the worst situations."

"That's kind of appropriate for right now, huh?" Harm asked quietly. "You're moving on. That's a good thing."

"Yeah, I guess it is."

JUNE 4TH, 2001

0602 EST
APARTMENT OF HARMON RABB JR
WASHINGTON D.C

Usually, Mac got up promptly at 0600 to get up and take a shower, but this morning, she didn't. Or rather, couldn't. Harm, acting completely unlike himself (he never got up early. Ever. For anything), had gotten up before Mac to hop in the shower, insisting that she sleep in. What Harm didn't know was that Mac couldn't sleep in, not on weekdays when she knew she had work. Her internal clock wouldn't allow her to. His gesture was sweet, though.

Mac was laying in Harm's bed, tangled up in Harm's bed sheets. For living a bachelor lifestyle, he did keep his place nice.

She turned over to face the alarm clock on Harm's bedside table. The glaring red digits told her the time was 0602, meaning she had 1 hour, 58 minutes and 12 seconds before she had to be at work. Hopefully Harm would make his shower quick, for Mac's sake, which meant he'd probably get out at about 6020.

Mac quickly began to do the calculations in her head. Her average shower took her 22 minutes and 15 seconds, but she could have it done in 10 minutes and 13 seconds if she had to. Then she'd probably grab a bite to eat before heading back to her place. It would take her about five minutes and 26 seconds to eat, then about 21 minutes and 32 seconds to drive to her apartment. She could get dressed and do her makeup in 25 minutes flat (and 4 seconds, but who was counting?), and all that left was the 22 minute and 49 second drive to JAG from her apartment. That had her arriving at work at approximately 0757, barring any traffic or any technical difficulties.

She decided she better opt for the 10 minute shower, just to play it safe.

Harm got out of the shower at 6015, 5 minutes before Mac expected him to. He came into the bedroom wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Even though she'd seen everything last night, she was still surprised to see him like that. Harm met her raised eyebrows with a smile. Was he-was he blushing? Mac couldn't believe it, until she felt her own cheeks getting hot.

"I tried not to use all the hot water," he said.

"Thanks," Mac went to get up, but realized she didn't have any clothes on. She spotted Harm's black t-shirt on the ground nearby. She picked it up and slipped it on. The shirt was the perfect size to serve a pseudo-nightgown for her. She knew she could've just walked past him naked, but things felt a lot more awkward in the daylight. They usually did, after one night stands.

On her way to the shower, Mac paused in front of Harm. She placed a hand on his chest and reached up to kiss him quickly on the mouth.

"Good morning, Harm."

"Good morning, Sarah."

Sarah. Last night in bed she had been "Sarah", not "Mac", and she was pleased to see that the change had carried over into the next morning. Mac hoped he wouldn't slip up and call her 'Sarah' at work though, because then everyone would know.

"You know, I think I like you more in my clothes," Harm called as Mac entered his bathroom, and she laughed.

Sure, she had only been broken up with Mic for 9 hours, and 11 minutes, but she could get used to this.

After her shower, Harm insisted that Mac stay for a cup of coffee, and she obliged, even though it tacked on an extra five minutes and 40 seconds to her routine. They sat down at his counter, and had been talking for only a few minutes before Harm got a phone call.

He went into his bedroom to take it, and Mac soon began to wonder who it was. Perhaps it was the Admiral? No, it couldn't be him. It wasn't even 0700 yet. Unless it was an emergency. Mac couldn't hear exactly what Harm was saying, but she could tell the tone of his voice that something was up.

After talking on the phone for three minutes and 21 seconds, Harm emerged from his bedroom, looking tense.

Mac took a sip of her coffee. He'd given her a mug with the United States Navy emblem on it. Mac was pretty sure he'd done it on purpose, but hadn't said anything. She was too tired to tease him that morning.

"Who was it?" she asked.

Harm ran his fingers through his drying hair. "It was Renee."

Mac's stomach clenched. Renee?

"I thought you two were-"

"Yeah, we are," Harm said. "But her father died. She just got the news this morning."

"Oh God, that's awful."

Mac looked down into her coffee cup. Harm sighed. Mac knew it was awful, but she couldn't help but be a little bit irritated at Renee for calling. Or at least irritated with the situation.

"She wants me to go to the funeral with her," he said. "You know, for support."

"Yeah, I know. Where's the funeral?"

"Minnesota."

Mac's head jerked up. "Minnesota?"

Harm sighed again. "I know. I'm gonna call the Admiral while I get dressed, ask for a few days leave."

He looked at her then, and must've seen the wounded look in her eyes.

"Mac, you know I wouldn't go if it wasn't an emergency…"

So, she was back to being 'Mac' now. She wasn't 'Sarah' anymore.

"I know."

Mac forced herself to take another sip of coffee, even though she wanted nothing more than to throw the mug. Why did stuff like this always have to happen to her? She was always the one getting left.

"Mac...she needs me right now."

Maybe I need you right now too, she thought. But she didn't say anything. Mac decided to stand down, because Renee needed Harm more than she needed Harm. Renee's father had died, Mac was just lonely.

"Look, Mac. Just let me get dressed, then can we talk?"

"Sure."

Harm went back into his room to get dressed, and Mac remained seated at the counter with her Navy mug. It was 0703.

She couldn't wait for him to get ready, or else she'd be late for work. So, she got up and poured the rest of her coffee down the drain. She was still wearing his shirt, with the pair of leggings she'd worn the night before. She grabbed her Corps sweatshirt, but she couldn't find her bra. She decided to leave it, even though it was the only comfortable one she owned. Harm could keep it as a souvenir for their one and only night together, for all she cared.