Chapter Five
Waffles Fix Everything

WEEK 3
JUNE 23RD, 2001

0045 EST
APARTMENT OF SARAH MACKENZIE
GEORGETOWN

After a few harrowing days, Mac arrived home in one piece. She groaned as she sat her bag down in her room. She may be in one piece, but she was a mess emotionally. To say that Indonesia was a worst-case scenario would be an understatement. Everything went wrong. And Mac couldn't help but feel like she did something wrong.

She could've gone back for Lylyana. She should've gone back for Lylyana. Mac didn't want to think about it, but she couldn't keep herself from thinking about it.

Slowly, almost mechanically, Mac stripped out of her uniform and hung it up. The jet lag had messed up her sense of time more so than usual, so Mac actually had to check the clock. It was a little after midnight. She was exhausted.

And in pain. Her back and shoulders ached terribly, and Mac could feel a headache coming on. Her breasts were also sore, but that wasn't unusual. Her breasts usually got sore near her period, so Mac didn't think anything of it. The soreness also could've been attributed to the bra she was wearing. Her most comfortable bra was still at Harm's, probably under his bed or something, and Mac didn't have any other bras that were quite as comfortable. But the comfort-level of her bras was the last thing Mac was worried about at that moment.

After changing out of her uniform, Mac fished Harm's shirt out of her seabag. It was the black one she'd taken from his apartment the night after they had sex. Mac took it with her when she left for the Guadalcanal and had slept in it every night-even the nights when she was still mad at him for ditching her for Renee. She needed to stop wearing it so often, though. She didn't want his scent to wear off.

Harm. Through the cloud of her exhaustion and guilt, Mac found herself aching for him. Not in a sexual way (like her bra, sex was the last thing on Mac's mind), but just in a needing-to-be-near-him kind of way. Just wearing his t-shirt wasn't cutting it.

Mac sat down on her bed, her back pressed against the headboard and knees drawn up to her chest, like a child. She had been a mess when she called Chloe, and there was no doubt in her mind that she would turn into a mess as soon as she got Harm on the line. He didn't even know she was home yet.

"Hello?" Harm picked on the third ring, his voice groggy with sleep. It hadn't even occurred to Mac that he would be sleeping.

"Harm? It's Mac," she spoke softly, tears already beginning to fall.

"Mac? What's wrong? Where are you?"

"I'm-I'm back home."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," the lump in Mac's throat was making it hard for her words to sound coherent. "Can you-can you come over?"

Harm made it over in record time, to the point where he rivaled Mac's timeliness. He arrived in his pajamas, something that Mac hardly noticed. As soon as he appeared in her entryway, she rushed into his arms, sobbing.

He knew something was wrong as soon as he heard her voice, but Harm had no idea what could've happened. He didn't even know she was home until she told him so, and judging by the half-unpacked seabag, she hadn't been home long.

"Mac, what happened?" Harm asked her gently, brushing her bangs out of her face. The tears filling up her beautiful brown eyes was enough to make him want to cry. He didn't see her cry often, but when he did, he hated it.

"You know-" she swallowed. "You know I had to go to Indonesia?"

Harm nodded. "Yeah. What happened?"

Once Mac calmed herself down enough to talk clearly, she haltingly told Harm everything that went down in Aceh. He listened well, only interrupting to swipe some tears away with his thumb. Mac felt awkward and embarrassed; standing there crying in the middle of her living room, wrapped up in Harm's arms. Even though she asked Harm to come over, she still didn't like feeling so vulnerable. She was glad she had the piece of mind to close her front door, so her neighbors wouldn't get an earful.

"And now-now she's probably dead because of me, and I feel so-so-awful about it," Mac cired, burying her face into Harm's chest. If he noticed she was wearing only his t-shirt, he hadn't said anything.

"It wasn't your fault, Sarah."

"Yes it was!"

Mac didn't notice the short, rapid breaths she was taking, but Harm did. The last thing he wanted was for her to pass out from hyperventilating.

"Mac, Mac-Sarah, look at me," he said, tipping her chin up with one finger. It took a moment, but she finally met his eyes. "Breathe, honey," he said. "You need to breathe."

Mac kept her eyes trained on Harm's, and tried her best to match his breathing. Soon enough, she stopped feeling like she was drowning on dry land. Harm remained there with her the entire time, holding her steady. There was reassurance in his blue eyes.

"None of what happened there was your fault, okay?" he told her. "You did exactly the right thing-you saved all those people, Mac."

"But I didn't save her, Harm!"

"I know, I know, but you don't even know if she died. She could be perfectly fine."

"That's just it," Mac felt tears beginning to burn in her eyes again. "I don't know."

"What do you want me to do, Mac?" Harm asked. The questioning wasn't harsh, but genuine. He was there for the sole reason of making sure Mac was okay, and he was willing to do everything in his power to make her feel better.

Mac took a shaky breath, wiping a few stray tears away from her eyes. She sniffled. "Can you stay here with me?"

Harm nodded. "Sure."

"And-could you hold me?"

"I'm already doing that."

Mac smiled. It was the first smile Harm had seen from her in three weeks. He missed that smile. He missed her. "Well, could you not stop?" she asked.

"Of course," Harm answered. He was suddenly grateful he came over wearing his pajamas since it was now clear he'd be spending the night.

"Don't try anything though, we haven't had our three dates yet."

Harm chuckled. "I won't."

True to the deal they'd made, Harm and Mac didn't make love that night, but neither of them minded. Just being close to each other after being apart for three weeks was enough. However, the deal they made didn't stop them from making out. A lot.

The next morning, when Mac woke up, instead of her gaze falling on the cityscape outside her window, her gaze fell on Harm. He was fast asleep beside her, with one arm draped over her hip. He looked a lot younger when he slept; Mac had never noticed that before. Harm would kill her if she ever told him so, but he looked so cute while he slept.

She decided right then that her current view was one she could get used to.

"Do you have a waffle iron?" Harm asked, his voice muffled.

He had his head buried in one of Mac's cabinets. It was Saturday, and Harm was trying to scrounge up enough ingredients to make waffles. However, he wasn't anticipating that Mac kept little to nothing in her refrigerator and even less in her cabinets. Being a semi-optimist though, Harm was determined to make it work.

"Ummm…maybe?" Mac replied, knowing she was being absolutely no help. The only appliances she used on a regular basis was her coffee pot and microwave. In the five years she'd lived in that apartment, she'd used her oven only three times. All three times, it didn't go well. She now knew several members of the local fire department by their first names.

"Seriously? You don't know whether or not you have a waffle iron?"

"Do I look like Betty Crocker?"

Harm ended up going back to his place to get his waffle iron, and while he was gone, Mac made the one thing she kne how to make. Coffee.

"Here's some caffeine for your trouble," Mac said, a little apologetically. She nudged her Marine Corps mug towards him. After Harm's stunt involving giving her his Navy mug when she spent the night at his place, she decided to get back at him.

After pouring some batter (he had to get the ingredients from his place, too), Harm picked up the mug and took a sip. Mac watched with amusement as he noticed the emblem on the mug.

"You're joking, right?" he asked. Mac giggled.

"It's payback," she replied. "We could trade, if you want."

Mac usually used her marine mug, but since she gave that one to Harm, she was using a pink, polka dotted one. It was the mug Chloe used whenever she visited. Mac was shocked when Harm nodded.

"Sure, we can trade."

"Really?" she asked, a little in disbelief.

"I refuse to betray the Navy. Even for coffee. Plus," Harm shrugged. "I like pink."

"You like pink?" Mac raised an eyebrow as she passed him her mug.

"It's the twenty-first century, Mac. A man can like pink."

After the waffles were done, Harm and Mac sat down at Mac's small kitchen table to eat with their respective mugs

"How are you feeling?" Harm asked. The question was innocuous enough, but Mac automatically felt embarrassed, knowing it was being asked in relation to the meltdown she had the night before.

"I'm fine," Mac answered. What happened in Indonesia still weighed on her, even after a good night's rest, and she still went a little numb when she remembered it. In truth, she didn't want to talk about it, and hoped Harm would drop it.

"Mac-"

"I'm fine, Harm," she insisted, a little too harshly. She saw the hurt flash in his eyes, and she immediately regretted snapping. "I'm sorry. I-I just don't wanna talk about it, okay?"

"Sure," Harm nodded. "I just want you to know that what happened wasn't your fault, that's all."

"Don't worry, I know."

Mac didn't entirely agree with him; she still believed there was more she could've done. She just hoped that if she told herself it wasn't her fault enough times, she would start to believe it. Until then, she would just try to swallow her guilt as much as she could.

"These waffles are really good," Mac said through a mouthful. Harm had never fixed breakfast for her before, and Mac was extremely impressed. Next time they had dinner together she'd have to ask him to make waffles instead of his meatless meatloaf.

"Thanks. You know what they say: waffles fix everything."

"Who said that?"

"My grandma."

1430 EST
ROCK CREEK PARK
WASHINGTON DC

After loafing around her apartment for most of the morning, Harm and Mac decided to head to the park. Usually whenever they went to the park together it was to run, but Mac was recovering from jet lag, so running didn't sound too enticing. This time, they were just walking. Hand-in-hand like any other normal, lovey-dovey couple would do.

"This is nice, huh?" Harm asked. "Look at the ducks over there in the pond. Did you see the ducks?"

Mac smiled and nodded. "I saw the ducks."

Is this possible? she asked herself. Are we able to be a normal couple? We're capable of this? If I knew it would be this easy I would've made a move on him after Dalton.

"You know," she said, gently nudging Harm's shoulder. "This is pretty nice for our first date."

Harm's eyes widened. "This counts as our first date?"

"Sure, I don't see why not," Mac answered with a shrug.

"Really?" Harm frowned. "I wish you would've told me."

"How come?"

"If I knew we were on a date, I would've put chocolate chips in the waffles."