Chapter Thirteen
Fit to be Cuffed

WEEK 9-PART THREE

2200 EST
APARTMENT OF HARMON RABB
WASHINGTON D.C

Harm was pensively cooking dinner, occasionally looking up to check on Renee and Mac. The two of them were sitting on his couch with tension between them so thick it could be cut by one of his steak knives. Harm was trying to make sure the two of them weren't ripping each other's hair out. Mac was facing Harm, and whenever she caught him looking their way she gave him a sharp look that clearly said 'Mind your business, sailor.'

Renee casually folded her arms over her chest. "Okay," she said. "Now that we're through with small talk, I have something to ask you, Mac-I can still call you Mac, can't I?"

"Of course," Mac nodded. Her mouth suddenly became dry. She swallowed. "What's up?"

" I'm going to sound like a major bitch, but where is your husband?"

Mac froze, realization dawning on her like a bucket of ice water. Renee didn't know anything about Mic leaving. Great, Mac thought, now she thinks I'm a cheater. On top of everything else she probably already thinks of me.

"Renee I-"

Renee held up her hand, and Mac stopped. "Can I finish?" she asked. Mac nodded. Maybe Harm was right; there was no hatchet to be buried. Maybe this had been a bad idea.

"I'm trying not to make any assumptions, but you answered Harm's phone for him, which makes me assume that you two were in your apartment together. Then Harm leaves me waiting for two and a half hours and when he finally shows up you're with him."

"Renee, Mic's in Australia-"

"That's even worse!" she exclaimed. Harm heard her, but kept his eyes on the salmon he was cooking, trusting Mac had the situation under control. "You're cheating on your husband, barely two months into your marriage, when he's not even in the country-"

Mac took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching the fist she had balled up at her side. She liked Renee. She really, really liked Renee. Mac had faith that if she repeated that mantra to herself enough times, it would come true.

"Renee, Mic is in Australia because he left me. He ended our engagement. We're broken up."

That made Harm look up, but Mac hastily waved him off.

Renee blinked at her. "What?" she gasped. "Oh my god, what happened?"

Mac smiled. "He...he finally realized what I wouldn't admit to."

Renee followed her gaze to Harm. "That you're in love with Harm?" she turned back to look at Mac, and Mac nodded to confirm, feeling herself blush a little.

"Well that's uh..that's a relief," Renee said slowly, smoothing out her hair. "Now I know the problem was him and not me," she smirked.

Mac was relieved that Renee had a sense of humor about the situation, and felt herself relax. Maybe this wouldn't turn into an argument after all.

"Renee, that's not all," Mac said hesitating a little. She hoped Harm wouldn't kill her for what she was about to say next.

"What?" Renee asked. "Don't tell me you're pregnant."

"I'm pregnant."

Harm approached them then. He couldn't have picked a worse time. "Dinner's ready," he said, looking between them with an awkward smile. "Did I miss something?"

Dinner ended up being an...okay affair, though it started off on an awkward note with Mac's impromptu pregnancy announcement. It ended up being better than all three of them expected, and it appeared that everyone had gotten their happy ending. Harm with Mac, and Renee with Cyrus the mortician.

"Wait, Renee, don't forget your box!" Mac said right as Renee was headed out the door.

"Oh, thank you," Renee said with a laugh. Mac being pregnant was still something she was trying to process. "I almost completely forgot why I came here."

Mac presented Renee with the box and Renee took it, peering inside at it's contents. "Ah, the memories," she said dryly, and Mac noticed Harm's cheeks were starting to turn a little pink. She raised an eyebrow at him. That was something she'd have to question him about later.

"Renee, I can walk you to your car if you want," Mac offered.

Before Renee could respond, Harm stepped between her and Mac. "That's okay, Mac. Renee, I can walk you to your car. Here, let me take the box-"

"That's okay. I want Mac to come."

Harm watched as Mac and Renee strolled out of his apartment with a bemused expression written across his face. Does this mean they're friends now? He wondered.

The trip down to Renee's car was a pretty quiet one, until Mac and Renee got outside. It was a balmy summer night, one of those nights that was still plenty warm even though the sun had set a while ago. Halfway to her car, Renee stopped and looked at Mac.

"You know, Mac," she said. "I've always been jealous of you."

"Me?" Mac looked at her in bewilderment. "Why? Because I'm with Harm?"

"No! It's not about Harm," Renee scoffed. "I could care less about him. It's just that-you're so...responsible."

"Responsible?" Considering the circumstances by which Mac got pregnant, the last word she would use to describe herself was 'responsible.' She actually laughed a little at Renee's comment.

"Yeah, you know, you're a Marine. You're so squared away, and you don't have to worry about what country you're going to have to travel to for the weekend."

Mac stopped in her tracks, looking at Renee incredulously. Who are you and what have you done with Renee Peterson?

"Renee, I-First of all, thank you, but I think out of the two of us, I should be the jealous one. I mean look at your hair, your clothes, your job, your car-"

They finally reached Renee's car. "Well, I can give you something of mine, if that'll make you feel better." Renee unlocked her car and sat the box down in the passenger seat.

"Oh no, I could never-"

"It's fine, Mac. Here, take these."

After fishing around in the box for a few moments, Renee stood up with something pink and fuzzy in her hand. Mac took it, thinking it was some kind of stuffed animal, until it unraveled and Mac saw that it was actually-

"You can have my handcuffs," Renee told her. "Cyrus isn't into that kind of stuff."

Mac stared at the handcuffs, absolutely dumbfounded. Out of all of the things she expected Renee to pull out of that box-

"Thanks, but I don't like to be cuffed. That's not my thing," Mac said, balling the cuffs into her fist with a blush. Great, now she probably thinks I'm a prude.

Renee laughed. "It's not my thing, either. It is Harm's thing, though."

Mac's eyes widened. Suddenly a mental image was conjured up in her mind of Harm cuffed to his bed frame with those pink, fuzzy handcuffs around his wrists. She couldn't help but giggle. Who would've thought? Her sailor liked to be cuffed up in bed.

"I know, it surprised me, too." Renee said. Mac could only nod, it being impossible to find words to describe what she was feeling.

Renee and Mac might not have been destined to be friends, but they were now forever bonded by the mutual knowledge of Harm's affinity for a certain pair of pink, fuzzy handcuffs.

When Mac came back inside, Harm noticed that she was awfully quiet. Way too quiet. He looked up from loading the dishwasher. "How did it go?"

"Oh it went...fine," Mac answered lightly. It was then that Harm noticed the twinkle in her eye, and that she was holding something behind her back.

"What do you have?" he asked slowly, eyeing her warily.

"Care to explain these?" Mac asked, pulling out of a pair of pink, fuzzy handcuffs from behind her back. As soon as Harm saw them, he felt the pit of his stomach drop out. He should've known Renee would get one last dig in before she was gone for good.

He finally cleared his throat. "No, not right now," he said, trying to ignore the blush rising to his face.

"Really?" Mac began to twirl one of the cuffs around her finger. "I don't think I'll be able to sleep without knowing the full story behind these," she said. "You know, if anything, I thought you'd be into cuffing girls up, not having girls cuff you up, Sailor."

Harm deliberately looked down, so Mac couldn't see how hard he was blushing. It wasn't that he was a prude, he just wished Mac didn't have to find out...all of that from a third party source. Especially since that third-party was Renee.

"I plead the fifth."

"Harmon Rabb Jr," Mac's mouth dropped open. "You're not on trial."

Harm snorted. "It certainly feels like it."

"After all these years, you're still full of surprises."

"Oh, come on Mac," Harm groaned. "It was one time."

Mac raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, it was twice."

Mac raised her other eyebrow.

"Okay, okay! It was multiple times!" Harm threw his hands up. "Are you happy?"

The expression on his face was priceless, and Mac burst out laughing. Harm rolled his eyes and shook his head, waiting for her to finish.

"Are you done?" he finally asked, and Mac nodded, wiping some stray tears from her eyes.

"I'm sorry I-I just never would've thought-"

Harm shrugged. "To each their own."

"I mean if you sat me down and asked me what fetishes you had, this wouldn't have been my first guess."

"I like to keep you guessing."

"When were you gonna tell me?"

"I thought you'd figure it out on your own," Harm said. "You are good at investigating, Mac."

She looked down at the cuffs and back up at Harm. "You know I'm definitely keeping these right?"

Harm sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that," he said, returning to his original task of loading the dishwasher. Mac crept behind him, swinging the handcuffs in her hand. She coyly wrapped both of her hands around his waist, pressing a kiss into the back of his shoulder.

"Mac…" he started, but she shushed him.

"Just relax," she whispered in that way that made Harm melt. She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair.

Harm groaned, half out of arousal and half out of annoyance. "Come on, Mac," he said. "First you make fun of me, and now you mess up my hair." he reached up to fix his tousled hair, but he met resistance. Something was attached to his left wrist...something fuzzy.

He heard Mac snort behind him, which confirmed his fears. Harm looked down to see one end of the handcuffs around his wrist, and the other end attached to a drawer handle

"You think this is funny?" he asked, craning his neck to look at Mac. She looked the smuggest he'd seen her look in awhile.

She nodded. "Uh-huh."

Harm gave his left arm a firm tug, but nothing budged. "So, uh, are you gonna uh, uncuff me?"

Mac held up the key, which Renee had almost forgotten to give her. She held it just barely out of Harm's reach, "I will if you can get the key from me," she said as she began to slowly back away.

"You're joking right?" Harm asked, tugging his arm again.

"You know, I think-" Mac feigned a yawn. "I think I'm kind of tired. I might go to bed."

"You're not serious, are you? Tell me you're not being serious."

"I still have a pair of pajamas here, don't I?" Mac walked into his bedroom. Harm had to stand nearly on tip-toe to keep her in his sight.

"Yeah, you have that pink tank top thing that I really like-that's not the point. Are you gonna let me out?"

"Goodnight, Harm."

"Mac, let me out! This isn't funny!"

Harm watched Mac's silhouette as she undressed and put on her pajamas. "You know," he called. "If you weren't pregnant, I'd seriously consider killing you."

He heard Mac laugh. "I know," she replied. "I love you too, Harm."

"Mac-"

Harm heard a light switch click, and he was suddenly engulfed in darkness. He shook his head. "You're so gonna get it once I get out of these."

"I'm not the one who likes to be subdued. I won't be getting anything; I'll be giving."