Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Fourth Time Mac Used Her Oven

WEEK 21
OCTOBER 25TH, 2001

1030 EST
MACKENZIE-RABB RESIDENCE
GEORGETOWN

Mac stared down at page 923 in The Joy of Cooking. After reading over the recipe twice, Mac was cautiously ready to start baking. It was Harm's birthday, and she was going to bake him a cake. A chocolate marble cake, to be specific. He'd mentioned offhandedly that his grandma made it for one of his birthdays when he was younger and he'd loved it. So Mac, being the amazing girlfriend that she was, decided to surprise him with it.

"Alright, alright I can do this. This is fine. I can do this."

Correction: Mac would try her best to surprise him with it. She was doubtful that the culinary talents of Sarah Mackenzie could match those of Sarah Rabb. Mac couldn't cook, and baking was far more precise than cooking, which arguably made it more difficult. Mac was worried that Harm's birthday surprise was going to be a disaster.

She decided to not set the bar too high for herself. As long as the fire department didn't show up, she would consider her baking endeavor to be a success. Mac had even taken off a day off from work to make this cake for Harm. She was going to give it to him at the party they were having for him at Bud and Harriet's later that night. The party wasn't a surprise, but Mac's cake would be.

Harm had no idea why Mac was taking off. If anything, he should be the one taking off. It was his birthday, after all. Mac couldn't wait to see his expression when he found out she made something edible.

If she made something edible, that is.

The cake wouldn't only be a surprise for Harm, but for mostly everyone else at the party. The only other person who knew Mac was spending her day off baking was Harriet, who had sounded almost a little frightened when she found out. Apparently Mac's piss-poor cooking skills were renowned with the people who knew her.

That ends today, Mac told herself, squaring back her shoulders. She shook out her hands, hoping her nerves would shake out too. This cake is going to be the best cake ever. Harm's going to fall even more in love with me because this cake is going to be amazing.

Mac turned to go find a mixing bowl, only to find her confidence leaving her once again. She looked back at the cookbook.

Maybe I should read the recipe again.

TWO HOURS LATER

"I don't know how this happened. I just put the cake in the oven and left the room for a second-"

"You tried using your oven again, that's what happened," Scott replied with a good-natured smile. "No offense, of course."

Mac blushed. "None taken."

Scott was one of the firefighters with the DC Fire Department that Mac was on a first name basis with. He had come to Mac's apartment the last three times she caught something on fire in her oven. They'd gotten to know each other purely because of Mac's kitchen mishaps.

"Maybe you should lay off the cooking. Smoke inhalation is bad, especially for a baby," Scott told her, gesturing down to Mac's belly.

"Noted," Mac nodded, tapping her finger to her temple.

"Oh uh, congratulations, by the way."

"Thank you," Mac replied, feeling her blush increase. She hadn't seen Scott in over a year (the last time she'd used her oven was when she tried to bake Mic something for his birthday), so it had been awhile since he'd gotten a life update from her.

"I'll see you later, Sarah," Scott said after he got done checking the oven over for the third time.

"Hopefully it won't be because of my kitchen."

"Yeah," he smirked. "Hopefully."

"Thank you so much," Mac told Scott and the other firefighters as they left her apartment. As they filed out they replied with a 'No problem, ma'am' or a 'Congratulations' and Mac kept a polite smile on his face until she closed the door. Her smile disappeared as soon as she shut the door.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to take The Joy of Cooking and burn it. She would have burned if she had a working fireplace.

Mac marched back into her kitchen, her hands balled into fists at her side, muttering to herself as she went.

"The Joy of Cooking? Why the hell is it called The Joy of Cooking? Cooking isn't joyful, it's infuriating. They have the wrong adjective in the title."

Folding her arms over her chest, Mac glared at the cookbook with a fury she didn't know was possible to harbor for an inanimate object. In that moment, The Joy of Cooking was Mac's devil incarnate. She picked it up, opened the nearest cabinet and shoved it inside, slamming the cabinet door with a lot more force than what was required. It would sit there with the box of spaghetti noodles until she figured out something more permanent to do with it.

Mac's next task was to try and figure out something to do with the cake. To describe the cake as charred would be an understatement. It resembled a tire, both in color and texture. Mac sighed, becoming even more discouraged when she felt tears welling up in her eyes. Now there was a very good chance Harm's birthday was ruined. Well, maybe ruined was a little dramatic. He just wouldn't have a cake. But what was a birthday without cake?

The cake ended up going in the trash can. All Harm would be getting for his birthday would be an apartment that smelled like smoke. He would get Mac's other present for him, but the cake was meant to be the piece de resistance.

Just as Mac was about to release the foot pedal to close the trash can, her eyes caught sight of something familiar. Underneath the crumbling mass of Mac's chocolate marble-flavored failure was a brochure. It was a brochure for a bakery where she had gone wedding cake tasting with Mic. It had just gotten thrown out recently, because Harm cleaning out her guest room had inspired Mac to do some spring cleaning of her own, despite it being late October.

She picked up the brochure, dusting off the burnt crumbs. Mac suddenly had an idea. An idea that would definitely be a Harmon Rabb Jr-approved idea, if Harm ever found out about it..

Technically, her surprise was a cake. There was no fine print saying Mac had to actually bake the cake.

Mac smiled to herself as she picked up the phone to dial the number on the brochure. Why work smarter when you can work harder? She thought, Harm's gonna love the cake, that's all the matters.

THAT SAME TIME
JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

Mac's having a good day off, that's all that matters, Harm thought to himself as he walked into the break room for another cup of coffee. His girlfriend taking the day off wasn't the issue. In fact, Harm had been pushing for her to take more days off to keep from overworking herself. The problem was, Harm didn't know what she was up to. He figured that it had to be something to do with his birthday, but he couldn't put his finger on what.

If it was a surprise he would've figured it out by now. Harm was an expert at guessing surprises, even ones from Mac. By the time he was ten, his mother had learned not to bother with surprise parties. Harm could guess what a present was just by picking up the box. But so far, Mac hadn't presented him with any boxes and Harriet hadn't bothered trying to make his party a surprise, so Harm was confused.

He tried to think of something wild, a kind of surprise that Mac could completely blindside him with. The only thing he could come up with was her baking him something.

It can't be that, he thought, Mac would rather get waterboarded than bake something. Even if it was for me.

"Are you ready for your party tonight, sir?" Harriet asked. She had a mug in her hand that had '#1 Navy Wife' printed on it in big bold letters. Harm had to hide his smirk. I should get that for Mac, he thought to himself. Technically she wasn't his wife, but it would still make a pretty good gag gift. Her birthday wasn't until May, but Christmas was coming up. Speaking of birthdays...

"Yep," Harm replied. "Thanks so much for hosting."

"It wasn't any problem, sir."

Harm paused for a moment before pouring some coffee into his own mug. His Navy mug had sadly not survived the move from his apartment to Mac's, so he was stuck using a generic white on until he found a new favorite mug.

"Hey, Harriet...do you know why Mac took off today?" he asked, figuring that if anyone would know, it would be Harriet. The fact that Harriet was a dreadful secret keeper was something Harm could use to his advantage.

She froze. "Umm...no, sir. I have no idea."

"What does she have planned?"

"Nothing, sir," Harrier answered quickly, doing a horrible job at masking how flustered she was. "To my knowledge, the only thing she has planned is helping me decorate for the party tonight."

Harm gave her a sideways glance. "Are you sure?"

Harriet nodded. "Oh yes. I mean, what could she be doing? Baking you something? Because that would be absurd. We both know Mac doesn't bake, sir. She probably just took the day off to rest."

"Hm," Harm frowned thoughtfully. "You're right."

After he left the break room, Harriet breathed a sigh of relief, knowing she'd dodged a huge bullet. Luckily for her, the thought of Mac baking seemed so absurd that Harm didn't pick up on her hint. That's right Harriet, she told herself proudly, throw him off the scent.

As she poured her coffee, Harriet decided she should call Mac and make sure she hadn't burnt her apartment to a crisp.

1645 EST
A LOCAL BAKERY
WASHINGTON DC

"Thank you so much," Mac said as the cashier presented her with a light pink cake box. Inside it was a chocolate marble cake, professionally made with more expertise than Mac could ever possess.

"You're welcome. It's going to be a little extra for the quick order," the cashier replied.

"Of course. I'm so sorry for the short notice."

"Oh it's not a problem, ma'am."

Mac still smiled apologetically as she swiped her credit card. Even though this bakery was her last resort to save Harm's birthday, she couldn't help but feel bad about placing an order on such short notice. She felt so bad that she took fifty dollars that should've gone to her future child's college fund and used it for a tip.

As soon as she got in her car Mac unboxed the cake. She took a moment to admire it in all of its baked-goods glory. It looked absolutely perfect...almost too perfect. She sighed. No one's going to believe I made this, she thought. On top of the cake 'Happy Birthday Harm' was written in swirly white icing that looked better than Mac's writing with a pen.

Mac quickly took a finger and purposely smudged some of the chocolate piping on the side of the cake. There, she licked the icing off her finger, that's more believable.

To completely sell it, Mac pulled out a cake holder she'd brought from her apartment and gingerly transferred the cake from its box to the holder. She sat the holder down in the passenger seat next to Harm's other present, which she'd picked up while the bakery was fixing the cake.

"Not too bad for my first time baking," she said as she started the car.

1930 EST
BUD & HARRIET'S HOUSE
ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA

Mac wrapped her arms around Harm's shoulders, hugging him from behind. "Are you ready, birthday boy?" she asked, placing a kiss on his cheek.

Harm was sitting at the head of the table in Bud and Harriet's dining room, something Harriet and Mac had insisted on. Making a big deal out of his birthday wasn't something Harm had done since he was a kid. This year was the first big party he'd had since he'd turned twenty-one. (and he didn't even remember that party, thanks to Keeter and Luke Pendry)

"You really didn't have to do this," Harm said to Mac and Harriet. "Seriously."

Practically every inch of the first floor of Bud and Harriet's house was covered with balloons and streamers for decorations. Harm felt guilty that they went all out for him, even though Mac was right; he was the birthday boy. Harriet told him early that most of the decorations were actually Mac's idea.

Harriet emerged from the kitchen carrying Harm's cake. His eyes widened at the sight of it. It looked absolutely perfect, practically picturesque, like something out of a movie. It had chocolate icing and piping that swirled intricately along the side and border of the cake. A A handful of candles were on top (Actually having thirty eight candles on a cake would definitely be some sort of fire hazard.)

After everyone was done singing "Happy Birthday" and Harm received a celebratory kiss from Mac, he looked up at her with wide eyes.

"It's chocolate marble, your favorite," she told him, reaching down to run her fingers through his hair.

"Where did you get it?" he asked.

Mac smiled. "I made it."

Harm's eyes widened. He looked back at the cake, wondering if it was even a good idea to even cut it.

Everyone ended up enjoying Mac's cake, including Harm. Even though he was a little suspicious of the cake's origins, he couldn't deny that it was delicious. It almost tasted as good as the ones his grandma used to make for him when he was little. There was just one issue; Harm was positive that Mac didn't bake that cake.

He knew Mac. He loved Mac. With his knowledge and love for her, he could firmly say that she did not have the capabilities to bake that cake. The same woman who accidentally put aluminum foil in the microwave couldn't have made that cake. Everyone else was shocked, but believed her nonetheless. Harm was the only one who didn't.

Harm didn't want to embarrass Mac in front of everyone, so he decided to wait and talk to her about it in private. After he opened all of his presents-except Mac's,Harm pulled her aside.

"Hey," he said. "Can we talk?"

"Sure."

The late October weather made it too cold for them to go outside, so they opted to sneak into the den. Harm turned on the lamp, and in the soft glow of the room Mac looked beautiful. She was wearing a peach, cable-knit sweater that was slightly oversized and almost concealed her bump. Post-baking-breakdown she'd made an effort to get a little more dressed up.

"Look, Mac," Harm noticed she had his present with her. As much as he didn't want to, he had to say what he pulled her in there to say. "I know you didn't bake the cake."

The smile Mac had on her face dropped instantly. "What do you mean?" she asked. She was trying to put on a confident front, but Harm could tell by the look in her eyes that she knew she'd been caught red handed.

"Mac, baby," Harm chuckled lightly. "There's no way you made that cake."

Mac frowned, and Harm instantly regretted laughing. "How did you know?"

"You put aluminum foil in the microwave last night."

"That was an accident," Mac grumbled, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "And I took it out as soon as I realized what I did. I just forgot that aluminum foil shouldn't go in the microwave. It was pregnancy brain, or whatever."

Harm opened his mouth to respond, but Mac continued. "And it wasn't like I didn't try to bake you a cake. I did. Just look in our trash can if you don't believe me."

"Our trash can?" Harm raised an eyebrow. "What exactly happened this morning?" he asked slowly/

Mac sighed. "I almost burnt our apartment down," she murmured, looking down at her feet.

"What-"

"But I didn't, though. That's the point. I almost burnt it down."

Harm took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. "You must have the Fire Department on speed-dial," he said.

"How'd you know?"

Harm's eyes widened. "Mac-"

"Okay," she threw her hands up. "I can't cook. Or bake. I get that. Everyone knows that about me. I know that about me. Maybe I just wanted to try and bake my boyfriend a nice cake for his birthday. Maybe I just wanted to give you a nice surprise and a nice birthday. Maybe I just told a little white lie in order to make you happy-"

"Mac, Mac," Harm placed his hands on her shoulders, finally catching her attention. She stopped talking. "You don't need to bake me a cake for my birthday."

She blinked at him in an almost comical manner. "What?"

"You don't need to throw me a party, or put up any fancy decorations," Harm continued, gesturing behind him at the party that was still going on in the other room.

Mac blinked again. "Why not?" she asked, and Harm laughed.

"First of all, I'm not that high maintenance," he said. "Secondly, I'd be perfectly fine with a night in with you and a pizza."

"Really?"

Harm nodded. "Yeah, what guy doesn't want to spend a birthday with his favorite girl in the world?"

Mac blushed and Harm smiled. "You mean that?" she asked.

"Of course I do."

"So...do you wanna...get out or here or…" Mac's voice trailed off, hoping Harm would pick up what she was putting down. He certainly did, but there was something he wanted to do first.

"Can I open my present first?"

Mac's eyes widened. She'd completely forgotten she'd brought Harm's present in with her. "Oh, sure," she handed him the present nervously. It was an excited nervous, where Mac could only focus on the anticipation she felt as she waited to see Harm's reaction.

Harm unwrapped the present at a painstaking pace (wrapping was something Mac was good at), letting the generic blue wrapping paper flutter down to his feet. He was actually getting two presents, placed together in the same box. He pulled out the first present, holding it by it's simple wooden frame. It took a moment for him to realize what the picture was of, and Mac smiled as she saw the realization dawn on his face.

"How'd you get this?" he asked, flipping the photograph around to show Mac. It was the picture Harm had of him and his father, the one where Harm was in the fighter jet and Harm Sr. was standing next to him. To Harm's knowledge, the picture was still in Mac's living room where he placed it when he moved in with her.

"I had a copy made," she said. "I was thinking you could keep the original and that one could go in the baby's room."

Harm didn't say anything-he couldn't say anything. "Mac," he was finally able to get out. "Mac this is, this is-thank you."

Mac giggled. Seeing her Flyboy all flustered was something she'd never tire of seeing. "You're welcome," she replied. "Now keep going-there's more."

The next thing Harm pulled out was a mug-two mugs, actually.

"I couldn't decide which one to get, so I got both," Mac explained. "I hope they're good replacements for your broken Navy mug."

Harm smirked as he read the mugs. One of them said "#1 Navy Dad" and the other one read "#1 Marine Husband."

"Very original," he observed wryly, and Mac's smile broadened.

"Thank you," she replied. "I asked Harriet where she got her mug from, and I decided these would make the perfect birthday gift."

"I see," Harm smirked. He thought back to that morning when he saw Harriet's mug in the break room. Mac noticed he was laughing.

"What are you laughing at?" she asked. "Don't tell me you don't like the mugs."

"No,no," Harm shook his head. "It's not that. It's just that these were going to be my birthday present for you."

"Really?"

"Yep. I should've figured you be one step ahead of me."

"It's because I'm a Marine," Mac said. "And I know we're not married, but they didn't have a mug for a Marine boyfriend."

Yet, Harm wanted to say, we're not married yet. But instead, he asked, "Mac, where did you get that cake?"

"From a bakery in DC, why?"

Harm shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh no reason-"

"You want to get another one, don't you?"

Harm blushed. "It was a good cake, Mac. Even if it wasn't homemade."

Mac's mouth dropped open and she swatted him on the arm. "I tried, okay? And I bet if I had messed up the icing more you wouldn't have even noticed I didn't make it."

"You get an A+ for effort, Marine," Harm said as Mac walked past him to head back to the party.

"Keep up the sarcasm, Flyboy, and you're not gonna get those thirty-eight birthday kisses I was planning on giving you tonight," Mac said over her shoulder.

Harm frowned. "Hey, Mac, wait a minute," he followed her out of the den. "What happened to me being the number one Marine boyfriend?"

Mac shrugged. "Mugs can be replaced."

The coy look Mac gave over her shoulder was enough to make Harm almost lose his mind. As fun as the party was, he couldn't wait for it to be over so him and Mac could get home. After all, she owed thirty eight birthday kisses.

2145 EST
APARTMENT OF SARAH MACKENZIE
GEORGETOWN

There may have only been a few hours left in Harm's birthday, but the festivities were just getting started for him and Mac. Harm was sitting on the bed, his back to the headboard, waiting eagerly for Mac to emerge from the bathroom. She'd hid in there to get Harm's 'surprise' ready.

"Are you ready?" she called, her voice muffled through the door.

Harm chuckled. "I've been ready."

She giggled, "Alright," Harm watched with anticipation as the bathroom door slowly began to open.

"Happy birthday, Sailor."

Mac slowly emerged from the bathroom, teasingly poking her head out before exiting completely. She was wrapped up in a white satin robe and she had pearl earrings in her ears. The short robe draped over her nicely, and the plunging neckline accentuated her cleavage. With the soft glow of the bathroom behind her, she looked angelic.

"What do you think?" she asked, almost shyly.

Harm paused, thinking it over while Mac watched him for an answer. "I think that I'm the luckiest man in the world," he answered, and Mac grinned.

"Come here."

Mac walked over to the bed, making her way over to Harm. She crawled on top of him, straddling him by the hips. She placed a kiss on his cheek.

"That's one."

Harm chuckled as Mac placed another kiss on the corner of his mouth. There was never an occasion where Mac didn't drive him wild.

"That's two."

"Are you going to go all the way to thirty-eight?" Harm asked, feeling Mac's lips on his jaw.

"If you can make it," she replied, dipping her chin down to Harm's throat. Mac peppered three more kisses in a line down Harm's throat, stopping at the collar of his t-shirt.

Before Harm could reach out and undo Mac's robe, he was stopped by her pulling his shirt up over his head. Tossing it to the floor beside their bed, Mac looked down at Harm's chest and bit her lip. She splayed her hands across his taunt abs and kissed the hollow of his neck, delighting in the soft gasp from Harm when she grazed her teeth against his skin.

Mac sat up, smiling down at Harm. He was already incredibly hot and bothered, and they were just getting started, too. Harm looked up at Mac, smirking softly as she undid her robe. He couldn't think of a better way to end his birthday.