Chapter Twenty-Seven
Champagne Talks

WEEK 19-PART THREE
OCTOBER 13TH, 2001

Dating hadn't done much to slow down Harm and Mac's competitiveness, even out of the courtroom. Mac may have ditched Harm to dance with Keeter, but two could play at that game. Harm was now dancing with none other than Congresswoman Bobbi Latham.

"Are you only dancing with me to make Mac jealous?" Bobbi asked.

Harm smirked. "What makes you say that?"

She shrugged wryly. "I just know you, that's all."

"You know me?" Harm raised an eyebrow.

"Uh-huh. Everything's a competition with you. It's your nature."

Harm chuckled. He could always count on Bobbi for 'd never been one to mince her words. "It's just a little friendly competition between my girlfriend and I," he replied. "Nothing serious."

They passed Mac and Keeter on the dance floor, with Mac giving Harm and smug look over her shoulder. Bobbi watched her go by and then looked at Harm. "Can I ask you something?" she asked.

"Sure, go ahead."

"What made you and Mac finally decide to get together? And...have a baby?"

A slight blush rose to Harm's cheeks. "Yeah...about that," he laughed nervously. "It just kind of happened, we didn't really plan anything. Well-that's not really the best way to put it. We planned some of it but not all of it-"

"It's alright Commander, I get the picture," Bobbi laughed. "I'm just surprised that you're finally settling down."

"You're the fifth person to tell me that tonight."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me."

"I'm surprised to see you here with Sturgis," Harm replied. He knew Sturgis and Bobbi had worked together before, but he didn't realize their relationship had become anything other than professional. He was surprised, seeing as Bobbi and Sturgis were like night and day, but it was a good kind of surprise.

Bobbi shrugged. "He was a guy who needed a date, and I was a dateless girl. And I like Commander Turner, so that's an added bonus."

"Good."

"Harm?" Bobbi asked after a little while. They would still occasionally catch sight of Mac and Keeter from across the dancefloor. Harm wasn't actually jealous; if he was the type of guy that got jealous of Mac being around other guys, Mac wouldn't be with him.

"Yeah Bobbi?"

"I hope your kid's a politician."

Harm looked at her in surprise. "Where'd that come from?"

Bobbi shrugged. "It's just a feeling I have."

"A feeling, huh?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "I think it'll be good karma for you."

"Keeter, can we stop dancing now?" Mac asked. Her feet were starting to hurt again, not to mention she was about to pee her pants-well, skirt.

"Why?" Keeter asked with a small frown."I thought we had a good thing going."

"I really need to use the bathroom," Mac looked down. "We can keep dancing, but I might pee on your shoes.."

That made him stop. "Oh."

Mac smiled apologetically. "Sorry. Just the beauty of pregnancy."

Keeter put his hands up. "I completely understand."

"If Harm asks where I went, tell him I went to the bathroom." Mac called over her shoulder as she hobbled off to find the nearest bathroom. "You know how he hovers."

"Aye, aye, ma'am."

When Mac entered the bathroom, she was so focused on getting to a stall in time that she almost didn't notice Harriet and Melinda standing at the counter. Despite the urging of her bladder, Mac stopped halfway into the stall. "Hi?" she greeted, a little confused. Of course it was a bathroom, and Melinda and Harriet had a right to use the bathroom, but Mac had a feeling they weren't there for the same reason she was. Especially when she noticed Melinda looked like something out of soap opera with her running mascara.

"Hi," Harriet replied. Melinda didn't say anything; she just gave a pained smile.

"What…" Mac's brow furrowed. "What are you two doing?"

Harriet shrugged. "Just talking."

Melinda nodded in agreement. Mac was about to respond when she remembered she had to pee very badly, and she had about ten seconds left before she would need a change of dress. "Hold on, just one second," she quickly shut the stall door.

"Do you need me to hold your skirt up?" Harriet called.

"No, I think I got it. Thank you, though."

"No problem."

Harriet and Melinda waited in silence for Mac to get done using the bathroom. The only sound being Mac peeing was awkward, for Mac at least, so she decided to incite some conversation. "So," she started. "What have you been talking about?"

"Do you really wanna know?" Melinda asked, her nose obviously clogged. "Because it's kind of a lot."

"Is it about Nathan?" Mac asked.

"How does she know about Nathan already?" Harriet whispered to Melinda.

"I told her about it during an appointment," Melinda replied. "I might've breached some ethics codes, I'm not too sure."

Harriet nodded as Mac emerged from the stall. As she was washing her hands, she gave the two of them a look. "Can we, um, find a place that's not a bathroom to talk?"

"Sure, I don't see why not," Harriet turned to look at Melinda. "Does that work for you?"

Melinda shrugged. "Yeah. My life's falling apart regardless, it doesn't matter where we discuss it."

Keeter was on his third or fourth glass of champagne when Harm walked up to him. He'd worked off the first two or three glasses dancing with Mac and with any other willing lady after she left him for the bathroom. Mac was taking a long time in the bathroom, and Keeter hoped his dancing wasn't so horrible that she felt the need to avoid him.

"Hey, have you seen Mac?" Harm asked, looking around the dance floor for his Marine.

After another sip of champagne, Keeter shook his head. "Nope. She went to the bathroom about twenty minutes ago, but she hasn't come back."

Harm's brow immediately furrowed, and Keeter had to suppress a snicker. Harm was the only guy Keeter knew who acted like a mother hen with his girlfriends. Keeter found it annoying, but he'd never dated Harm, so maybe someone who did would find it endearing.

"That doesn't sound like her. Should I go check on her?"

Keeter looked at Harm incredulously. "Go check on her? In the women's restroom?"

"Oh," Harm, who looked ready to barge into the ladies' room just moments earlier, now looked discouraged. Keeter clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, man," he said. "She's probably fine. Bathrooms are good hangouts."

Harm eyed Keeter suspiciously. "Just how many drinks have you had?"

"I don't know," he held up his now-empty glass. Just two or three."

Technically, Mac wasn't in the bathroom anymore, but she was hanging out. Per Mac's suggestion, the ladies found a nook just outside the bathroom entrance where they could sit and talk. Melinda was sitting in the middle of a cushioned bench, with Harriet on her left and Mac on her right.

"Where should I begin?" Melinda asked as she blew her nose. She was using toilet paper in lieu of tissues, which reminded Mac of the first night she spent at Harm's apartment. That night was now the reason why she felt like she had to pee for the second time in twenty minutes.

"Here," Harriet stood up, dusting off nonexistent dust from the skirt of her red gown. "I'll go get us something to drink, you can fill Mac in."

Mac watched Harriet as she walked off, silently begging her to stay. She always felt awkward around crying people; she didn't know how to treat them. Maybe it was because of how she grew up, but Mac always felt awkward when she had to be nurturing. There was no one else there to be nurturing in place though, so it was up to Mac to step up to the plate. She'd have to be comforting a crying baby in a few months anyway, so she may as well get some practice by comforting a crying adult.

"So, what happened?" Mac asked, when she really wanted to ask, Can you please just stop crying? For like five seconds?

Melinda sniffled. "Do you want me to start at the beginning of tonight? Or the beginning of everything?"

"Everything...I guess…"

"Well, I met Nathan in 1987 when we were both in our first year of med school. I was twenty-two-"

Mac's eyes widened. "Can you, um, start at a more recent beginning?" If they were going to start things off in 1987, they would be sitting there the entire night. They were already probably going to be there an hour, at least.

"Oh. Sure," Melinda cleared her throat. "Things were fine between Nathan and me-We were married for eleven years-and then, suddenly, about a year ago and a half ago, things started changing. Nathan started getting distant. I couldn't put my finger on why until-until-"

"Until what?" Mac asked, even though she was almost positive she already knew the answer.

"Until last October, I came home and…." Melinda took a deep breath, "I find him pile-driving some twenty-five year old in our bed!"

The fierce tone Melinda used was very uncharacteristic for her, and the outburst took Mac by surprise. She looked around to see if there were any onlookers. There were none, thankfully.

"That's-that's-terrible," Mac said flatly, knowing full well that was the worst response to say. She couldn't find comfort worth a damn.

"It's fucked up, that's what it is."

Mac nodded. "Yeah, that too."

"I'm back. With beverages," Harriet announced. She sat down on the bench, carefully balancing four drinks, two in each hand. She had three glasses of champagne and one glass of water.

Mac, due to her pregnancy and history of alcoholism, took the glass of water. Harriet sat one of the champagne glasses on the bench beside her for herself, and she passed the remaining two glasses to Melinda.

"Isn't one of these for you?" Melinda asked, holding out one of the champagne glasses to Mac. Mac blinked at her for a few moments.

"Ummm...no," Mac said. "I'm pregnant, remember?"

Apparently Melinda didn't remember, at least until Mac reminded her.

"Oh…" Melinda frowned. "You are, you aren't you?"

Mac nodded slowly. "Yeah...you're my OB."

"I am, aren't I? God, I'm losing my mind," Melinda only hesitated a few seconds before downing half of the first champagne glass. Harriet and Mac exchanged wide-eyed glances. They were both positive that alcohol consumption wasn't going to help Melinda regain her senses.

"It's understandable," Harriet said.

Mac gingerly sipped at her water. It was understandable, and even if Mac didn't believe it was, she was in no place to judge. She decided to get pregnant in response to her engagement in it, albeit by accident.

"And now-" Melinda rubbed her eyes, messing up the mascara Harriet had meticulously repaired. "Now, he's here, when I'm trying to get over him. With some bitch named Loren."

"Did you tell her Singer was a bitch?" Mac asked Harriet, who shook her head.

"No, she deduced that on her own."

Mac had been gone for a half hour by that point, and Harm's feathers were significantly ruffled. Even Keeter, who was probably the most laid back person at the function, was starting to get a little confused by Mac's disappearance. If Harm had anyone other than Mac as his date, Keeter would just assume that his friend got stood up. But Mac didn't appear to be the type to stand someone up. Especially if she was five months pregnant with that guy's baby.

"I'm sure she's fine," Keeter said. Was she though?

Harm rolled his eyes. "Everything's fine with you right now. You've had, what? Five glasses of champagne?"

"No," Keeter frowned. "I've only had three."

"The past two drinks have been your third drink."

"I'm not a lightweight. I can handle it."

Harm shook his head. Keeter wasn't drunk, but he was probably consuming more alcohol than was acceptable for a work function. Clearly Harm wasn't going to receive much help from his best friend on this.

He scanned the ballroom, looking for someone who could help. Specifically someone who could get into the ladies' room. Harriet would be his obvious first choice, but she was nowhere to be found. Melinda would be his second choice, but she was nowhere to be found either. There was Singer, but Harm was going to save her for a last resort.

His gaze fell on Sturgis, who was standing with Bobbi. Bobbi.

"Look, buddy. Mac's a big girl, she can take care of herself. I mean big as in maturity, not big because she's pregnant. Well, she is bigger now that she's pregnant but-"

Harm left Keeter to ramble on to himself. He made a beeline for his other best friend and his favorite Congresswoman.

"Bobbi, are you busy?"

Bobbi looked at Sturgis, and then at Harm. "A little, why?"

"I need your help?"

"With what?" she asked.

"You're not trying to steal my date, are you?" Sturgis questioned, only partly joking.

"No, I'm trying to find my date."

Sturgis frowned. "Did Mac stand you up?"

"No," Harm insisted. "I just can't find her."

"You lost her?" Bobbi asked, amusement sparking in her eyes. Sturgis smirked.

Harm shrugged. "In a way, yes, but that's not the point. I need you to check and see if she's in the bathroom."

"If she's hiding in the ladies' room, maybe she doesn't want you to find her," Sturgis said.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, buddy."

It looked like Sturgis was going to be as much help as Keeter. So much for friends, Harm thought. Luckily for him though, Harm had an unlikely ally.

Bobbi handed her wine glass to Sturgis. "Alright, I'll go check on her," she conceded. "But I'm not promising I'll be able to get her to come out, or that she'll even be in there."

As she walked off, Harm and Sturgis looked at each other.

"Do you ever wonder why women hang out in bathrooms?" Harm asked.

"Probably to get away from men," Sturgis replied.

No sooner Bobbi left, Bud came walking up to them. "Have either of you seen Harriet?" he asked.

Sturgis looked at Harm. "Looks like you're not the only one who got stood up."

Bobbi stopped short on her way into the bathroom. Mac was sitting a few feet in front of her, not in the bathroom, but on a bench nearby.

Bobbi couldn't help but roll her eyes. Harm probably only checked around the ballroom and didn't bother to check anywhere else.

Men, she thought to herself as she approached the bench. Mac wasn't alone. Harriet was with her, as was Dr. Melinda Gardner. The latter being there was surprising to Bobbi. She'd met with Dr. Gardner a little over a year ago to discuss her being a keynote speaker at a subcommittee on women's reproductive rights. Bobbi wasn't expecting to see her here, of all places. The last time Bobbi saw her, she was in Manhattan and her mascara wasn't running.

She was still impeccably dressed, though.

"Am I interrupting something?" Bobbi asked.

Mac looked up. "Oh hi Bobbi, how are you?"

"I'm good, your boyfriend's looking for you, though."

"Harm?"

"Yep."

"You know," Melinda said, her voice slightly slurred. "I miss when someone cared about my whereabouts."

"I'm sure your date cares about your whereabouts," Harriet told her.

"Oh really? Did John send a Congresswoman to find me? No," Melinda extended a hand towards Bobbi. "Good evening Ms. Latham, I'm a huge fan."

Bobbi shook Melinda's hand, a bemused expression on her face. "Dr. Gardner, we met a year ago."

"Sorry, she's a little drunk right now," Harriet explained.

"I don't think she remembers how she got here," Mac added.

"Um, what's happening right now? If you don't mind me asking."

"Here," Harriet scooted over, making barely enough room for Bobbi to sit down. The bench looked like it was only meant for two people. "Sit down. It's kind of a long story."

"No it's not!" Melinda exclaimed. "It's very short. My husband would rather sleep with women a decade younger than him than even think about staying married to a woman he's supposedly 'loved' for eleven years!"

Your date likes sleeping with women a decade younger than him too, Mac thought to herself. Should I tell her? No. Maybe I should. Honesty is the best policy.

Bobbi looked at Mac and Harriet with a raised eyebrow. "Is that all?"

"Short and sweet isn't it?" Melinda asked bitterly.

"Is your husband your date?" Bobbi asked, trying to maintain some formality. It wouldn't do any good for someone to see a Congresswoman joking around with a drunk woman, even if that drunk woman was one of the best obstetricians in the country.

"No. He's with a Lt. Singer. What a fucking cun-"

Mac hurriedly clamped a hand over Melinda's mouth. "Be careful with the name calling. We work with her."

Melinda pried Mac's hand from over her mouth. "I wasn't calling Singer anything, I was talking about Nathan."

"All I wanted," she continued, "was to have a nice outing with this new guy I was seeing, and now that's all ruined!"

"Yeah, um, about that," Mac started, ignoring the way Harriet was shaking her head and Bobbi's questioning gaze. "Melinda, I have something to tell you."

"What?" Melinda blinked up at her. "Oh God, you're not getting another doctor, are you? I can't stand another rejection-"

"No, no, it's not that," Mac shook her head. "It's about John."

"John? What's wrong with John?"

"I used to see him."

Melinda laughed. "You just saw him a couple hours ago."

"I didn't see him like that," Mac paused. "I used to sleep with him, back when we were in Okinawa."

Mac wasn't usually someone who shied away from confrontation, but this time she braced for impact. She knew from personal experience that the topic of relationships and drinking didn't mix well and had a tendency to bring the end of friendships. But Melinda didn't say anything, she just stared at Mac as if she hadn't heard what she said.

This was somehow worse than an outburst.

"I think you should go," Bobbi said. Harriet nodded in agreement.

Just to make matters worse, John Farrow appeared in the hall.

"Melinda, there you are," he said cheerily, clearly having no clue of what he walked into.

"Yeah, I think I'm going to go," Mac announced, standing up.

Mac scurried away as fast as her sore feet and skewed sense of gravity could carry her. She was so preoccupied trying to get out of one of the most awkward situations she'd ever been that she didn't notice where she was walking. She rounded the corner and ran straight into someone. The collision caused her to lose her balance, but a familiar hand reached out to steady her.

"Still trying to get away from me?"

Mac looked up and immediately relaxed. "Maybe just a little," she replied wryly. Harm smiled.

"What were you up to?" he asked, slipping one arm around her waist.

"Oh, nothing much," Mac shrugged. "What were you up to?"

"Looking for you. Why are you out of breath?"

"Harm, I'm pregnant. Standing up puts me out of breath," Mac winced as a pain shot up her shin. "Can we uh, get out of here?"

"Sure," Harm made a move to head back to the ballroom, but Mac put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He looked down at her, brow furrowing in concern. "What's wrong?"

Mac blushed. "Can you...take off my shoes?" she asked, wincing again in pain. She couldn't stand being in those heels for another five seconds, but she didn't have the energy or coordination to get them off without sitting on the ground, and that would ruin her dress.

Harm obliged, getting down on one knee as if he were proposing. Mac met him halfway by lifting up her foot, bracing one arm against the wall for balance.

"This isn't how the story goes," Harm said as he undid one heel, slipping it off her foot. "Prince Charming is supposed to put the shoe on Cinderella's foot, not take it off."

"Good thing you're not a prince," Mac said as she gave Harm her other foot.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I like sailors more than princes. Well, I like one sailor more than all the princes."

Harm smirked as he stood, holding Mac's shoes in one hand and taking her hand in his other. She began to look at him questioningly when he started heading for the elevators instead of the front doors of the hotel.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

"The Executive Suite?" Mac looked at Harm in disbelief as she scanned the keycard. "You rented out the Executive Suite?"

Harm grinned. "Surprise."

The door opened, and the Executive Suite did not disappoint. The sofa and armchair were matching brown leather and the table was so polished Mac swore she could see her reflection in it. There was a flat screen TV in the main room and an even bigger one in the bedroom, which had a king sized bed that looked absolutely to die for.

Hands down, the best part of the room was the view. There were floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased the cityscape of DC.

"How did you manage to get this?" Mac asked, looking around the room, the cool tile of the kitchen area cool against her bare feet.

"I used my charm," Harm replied as he untied his bowtie.

"Naturally."

Harm sat down in an armchair by the window, and it wasn't long before Mac joined him, sitting down on his lap. They kissed, Mac snuggling against Harm as the two of them enjoyed the view. Harm wrapped both arms around Mac's waist, one hand coming to rest on her stomach.

"How are my girls doing?" he asked, placing a kiss below Mac's ear.

"Your girls?" Mac turned around to look at him. "How do you know our kid is a she?"

Harm smiled and shrugged. "Just a feeling."