ONE
HOUR LATER
USS PATRICK HENRY
For once, Mac's perfect sense of time eluded her. She tried to calculate just how long it had been since she'd given up on getting any sleep, just for something to do, but she just couldn't force herself to concentrate. There was too much to distract her. From above her head came the steady bleep of the heart monitor. Not quite steady, she realized, as the machine seemed to hesitate before sounding in time with Harm's next heartbeat. But it was more regular than earlier, when she'd tried to count the beats and her own heart had seemed to jump every time the monitor caught before the next beep sounded.
Mostly softer, and definitely less steady than the heart monitor, was his breathing – alternating between long, raspy intakes of air and short gasps. Over the last however many minutes she'd been lying on her cot, she'd just about managed to condition herself not to jump every time he seemed to fight to draw in breath, although the tears were harder to will away.
Why had he had to fly back last night? Why couldn't he have waited until morning? As she blinked back tears, she could see so clearly in her mind the courtyard at JAG just three days earlier, when she'd extracted from Harm that damned promise to return to watch her pledge her life and love to another man. By the time he was preparing to return from the carrier, the promise had become null and void as the fog which had seemed to envelope her for the last fifteen months finally lifted and she finally made the decision to take charge of her own life. But even then, she'd only tried to talk him into spending the night in Norfolk. It had never even occurred to her to worry about his trip to Norfolk from the carrier. Why hadn't she just told him to stay on the carrier until morning came and the weather had passed?
Because it had seemed so damn normal, she realized. It had been so routine. How many times had she seen him take off in a Tomcat and land safely again? Why should this time have been any different? Or maybe not so different, she thought as she remembered something Bud had once told her about Harm's first crash. He'd been coming into land on a carrier in a storm. Officially, his night blindness had been the cause of the crash, but the weather had been a contributing factor. Maybe if she'd remembered that before, she would have been more concerned about him flying in such weather.
She laughed bitterly. Was there anything that would have kept Harm out of the air the previous night, even without the specter of her impending wedding hanging over their heads? Not likely. If Harmon Rabb wanted to fly, God help anyone who tried to stop him. Jordan had tried and look what it had gotten her. Even she'd tried. Even though she'd choked on the words she'd really wanted to say, she'd attempted to point out just what he would be leaving behind. Damn you, she swore silently. Forget Mic Brumby, Renee Peterson and all those who had come before them. What had really stood between the two of them was a forty million dollar piece of metal. By giving her his wings, Harm had tried to remove the obstacle, but it looked like it would always be there. After all, it had nearly taken him from her again, this time forever ….
She jumped when she suddenly felt a chill against her right cheek and she turned her head to find that the cold was coming from the back of Harm's hand pressed her face and he was turned on his side, looking down at her, the oxygen mask hanging around his neck. She pulled away from him, her anger at the situation and Harm rapidly dissipating, and swung her legs over the edge of the cot, standing as she crossed her arms over her chest, not quite succeeding in looking more stern than worried. "What do you think you are doing?" she demanded, pushing him over onto his back and tucking the warming blanket securely around him. She lifted the oxygen mask to fit it back over his face, but he weakly pushed her hand away. "You need the oxygen to help you breathe easier."
"Have …. to talk," he rasped, reaching up to brush his thumb over her cheek, catching a few stray tears. He hated that he was the one making her cry and if he could turn back time and do something different, something that would have kept his Tomcat in the air, he would gladly do it so that he wouldn't have to face the anguish in her eyes.
"You have to worry about getting better," she insisted, pulling his hand away from her face and tucking it back under the blanket.
Slowly, he shook his head. "Can't …. wait," he countered, gasping for breath between words, his expression pleading.
Her anger was back in a flash. "Yes, it can," she insisted forcefully, Harm's eyes widening at the barely concealed fury in her voice. "Damn it, you almost died last night. I thought living without you for six months was hard. I can't do forever."
"You …." What he was about to say was lost in a coughing spasm. Blocking out everything but her concern, she lightly rubbed his back as he rolled onto his side, struggling to catch his breath. Remembering something Doctor Reed had said earlier, she realized that the coughing was somewhat positive, despite how congested he sounded. The fact that he was now able to cough meant that his body temperature was getting closer to normal. As the spasm subsided, she glanced at the monitor on the wall over his head. 94.1 degrees. Still far from normal, but better than it had been.
"That's why you need to wear the oxygen mask," she reminded him gently as she helped him settle back into bed. "The corpsman said the heated oxygen will help ease your breathing." She tried to place it back over his mouth, but he shook his head.
"Almost did …. lose forever," he whispered. He blinked, his eyes watery – from tears or from his coughing spasm, Mac wasn't sure. Likely the latter, she thought. She couldn't see Harmon Rabb crying over this.
"Harm, I'm not going anywhere, not now," she said gently, managing what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
He shook his head again, more insistently. "Didn't wait," he whispered raggedly. She stared at him, trying to understand what he was trying to say. It didn't make any sense ….
She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her soft cry as she realized what he was trying to say. He was scared that she wouldn't wait for him, just as she hadn't in Sydney when all he'd wanted was more time to …. handle whatever had been holding him back on the ferry. "I meant it when I said I'm not going anywhere," she said slowly, fighting the tremor in her voice, forcing back the haunting memory of past mistakes. Was the ground they were on that shaky that he thought she was going to abandon him in his current condition? What had happened to the partners who never had cause to question that one would be there for the other, no matter what? "I love you, Harm, and I'm staying right here with you."
He took in a few shuddering breaths as he tried to gather his thoughts. She seemed to understand what he was trying to say, but there was more he had to tell her, more he needed for her to comprehend. "Almost lost you," he said, bringing his hand out from under the blanket to clasp hers. She shivered as his cold fingers closed around hers, but resisted the instinct to pull her hand away and curled her fingers around his in reply.
"But you didn't," she reminded him. "I'm not going to marry Mic …." She trailed off as he shook his head.
"Not just …. Mic," he gasped. "Um, last night …. promised …. would tell you …. love you. So cold …. wanted sleep ….but had to tell you …."
She took in a shaky breath, brushing away tears with her free hand as the realization of just how close he'd been to slipping away staggered her. He was telling her that he'd been so close to giving up, to letting go to the cold and the dark. She dropped his hand and took a step back from the bed, quickly turning around as she fought to bring herself under control, spinning back around when she felt his hand try to grasp hers. As she came back around, she found him trying to push himself up into a sitting position. "Harm!" she cried out. Her cry brought a corpsman running from the far end of sickbay.
"Commander, you're not supposed to be moving around," the young woman insisted as she tried to push him back onto the bed. Normally, the petite corpsman would be no match for a determined, six-foot-four solidly built Naval Commander, but he didn't have the strength to take on a fly and what little strength he did possess quickly waned and it was only the corpsman and Mac's quick reflexes which kept him from tumbling out of bed. Inwardly cursing his body which wouldn't do what he wanted it to, he sank back against the pillow with a raspy groan, closing his eyes as he tried to block out the sharp pain in the back of his head. "And you're supposed to keep the oxygen mask on. We don't want you to catch pneumonia."
Despite the pain of movement, Harm shook his head as she tried to put the mask back on. "Need to talk …." he said, the rest of what he was trying to say lost as she managed to get the mask fitted back over his nose and mouth.
"If you think you can hold a pen," she said as his head fell back against his pillow, the struggle exhausting him, "then I'll get you something to write with. But the oxygen mask stays on or we may have to get more invasive to assist your breathing."
Reluctantly, Harm nodded, remembering the feeling of helplessness ten years earlier when he'd woken up in Landstuhl to the feeling of the intubation tube stuck down his throat, a ventilator forcing air into his battered and bruised lungs. He couldn't talk, he couldn't swallow. If he could avoid that particular sensation, he'd gladly do it. But he was almost desperate – yes, that was the right word, he realized – to talk to Mac, to make sure that she knew exactly how he felt. How many more chances would he have to finally get it right? Experimentally, he flexed his fingers. They were still stiff, but he was pretty sure he could close them around a pen. He had to.
Mac looked down, fiddling with the zipper of the jacket she was still wearing while the corpsman hunted up some paper and a pen. He seemed so anxious to talk to her, but she was afraid. Little more than twelve hours earlier, she'd made the difficult decision to turn her back on a long-term relationship that she'd just about managed to convince herself would last forever. How could she even think about diving head-first into another relationship, even if it was one she'd wanted deep down for nearly as long as she'd known Harm? But how could she not? She'd nearly lost him, not just to her relationship with Mic, as he pointed out, but to death. There was a part of her that wanted to grab onto him and everything he seemed to be offering and hold onto it with everything that was in her. As much as she wasn't sure she could risk rushing into anything so quickly, she had a feeling that not holding onto him with everything that was in her might just be the bigger risk.
"Sarah," Harm said, lightly tugging on her hand. She looked up to see him placing the oxygen mask back over his mouth – he'd lifted it just long enough to say her name – and a space next to him on the bed made when he scooted over towards the far edge. He patted the empty spot, his eyes conveying a silent message. She hesitated a split second before hoisting herself up onto the bed, bending one knee and tucking that leg under the other, trying to find the most comfortable position in the limited space. Harm held his arms out to her, indicating that she could lie down in his arms and she seriously considered it before reluctantly shaking her head. As much as she wanted to be in his arms, to reassure herself that he was real and to hear the comforting sound of his heart beating beneath her cheek, but she might forget herself and all her good intentions to take it slow, to figure out Sarah Mackenzie and where Harm fit into her life, would possibly fly out the window.
Harm closed his eyes, but not before she saw the hurt in their depths and she rushed to reassure him. "It's not you," she said softly. "It's me. Everything's so mixed up and I'm not …." Her voice trailed off as the corpsman returned and handed Harm a steno pad and a pen. He nodded his thanks and she moved off to inventory a supply cabinet at the other end of the room, giving them their privacy once again.
Mac had looked away, trying to compose herself, turning back when Harm placed the pad in her lap. She looked down to find a question in familiar, if slightly unsteady, handwriting.
Everything's so mixed up and what ….?
Taking a deep breath, she handed the pad back to him as she tried to put it into words. Finally, she began in a wavering voice. "I guess I've become a pretty good actress over the last year or so," she said softly, her eyes downcast. "I think I'd even managed to convince myself that being married to Mic Brumby was what I wanted. Or maybe I'd convinced myself that there wasn't anything better for me out there. I'm not sure." She hesitated as she noticed Harm starting to write something else out of the corner of her eye, but he nodded to her to continue. "I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, now that I've … woken up is as good a term as any, I guess. But looking back, I don't even recognize the person I was for all those months. I'm not sure what happened to the real Sarah Mackenzie."
As she finished, she held out her hand, indicating that she was done talking and wanted to read what he'd written. He slowly finished what he was writing and turned the pad around so she could read it. She chuckled as she read the two messages. It was an imperfect form of communication and Harm had drawn arrows to indicate which message he wanted her to read first.
She's been there all along. She just needed to figure out what she really wanted.
"Too bad admitting what I wanted couldn't have been easier," she murmured as she read his other comment, the one he'd started writing while she'd been speaking.
If marrying Mic was what you said you wanted, then why did you push me so hard on the Admiral's porch?
"If I knew that one," she chuckled ruefully, "then it wouldn't have taken me until the eleventh hour to admit that it wasn't really what I wanted. Maybe deep down I was hoping that you would push back and stop me from marrying him." She looked up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears and realized truth as she remembered what he'd written in the letter he'd left for her. "But you weren't going to, were you? No matter how much you wanted to or I wanted you to, you wouldn't have done it."
Harm shook his head as he slowly wrote out another message and angled the pad so she could see it.
If marrying Mic was what you wanted to do – and that's what you told me how many times? – it wasn't my place to stand in your way.
"Why do you always have to be so damn noble?" she muttered. Realizing from the shocked expression in his eyes that he'd heard that – she hadn't meant to say it out loud – she quickly shook her head before he could turn the pad back around and scratch out a response. "No, don't answer that. I'm sorry."
Harm was relieved. Although he'd intended to reply, he wasn't quite sure how. He actually thought she was a bit off the mark. If he was so noble, why had he taken her into his bed a few nights earlier, while she was pledged to another? He wasn't noble. He was just a helpless passenger on a runaway train he couldn't pilot or control. Sometimes the only thing to do was to hang on for the ride. It was a sensation he hated. She'd been right about that at the engagement party. He was hanging onto his control like a lifeline, but he had to. Look at what had happened when he lost control. Maybe it wasn't completely his fault – the jet had been struck by lightning, after all. But the mechanical problems with the plane should have been detected during preflight. There had to have been something he should have caught, something he could have done during the flight to have affected the outcome.
"Hey," Mac said softly. He jerked himself out of his reverie to find her studying him with concern. "Penny for your thoughts."
He hesitated, not sure how to reply. She didn't need to hear this right now, all his questions and doubts about his accident. It wasn't her burden to bear, so he settled on a glib reply. Slowly, he wrote out his short response and showed it to her.
I'm not sure they're worth that much.
She recognized it for diversionary tactic that it was and sighed inwardly. She knew he was shutting down on her, but wasn't quite sure why. She thought they'd come further than that since the engagement party. But hadn't that always been their story – one step forward, three steps back? "They are to me," she said simply. She reached out and stroked his forehead, avoiding the deep bruise over his right eye. Idly, she wondered how he'd gotten that. She would have thought that area would have been protected by his helmet. "Please, tell me what you're thinking."
He turned his head away, struggling to think of something to say that would satisfy her. She was about to comment about his shutting down on her again when he was overcome with another coughing fit. She wasn't sure about reaching out to comfort him, wasn't sure if he wanted her to, but before she could decide, he turned back, still gasping for breath, and handed her the pad. His handwriting was even more unsteady, the words written as he'd been struggling through the coughing.
You haven't answered my question.
"Which question?" she asked casually, although she knew very well which question he was referring to. She'd known that would come up again sooner or later. She just didn't think that was a question she could answer right now.
He took the pad back, trying to mask his impatience. He could see the truth in her eyes. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Pushing aside the tiny voice in the back of his head, the one pointing out that this probably wasn't the best time, he wrote out four words on the paper and turned the notebook back around.
Will you marry me?
"Harm …." she began as he took the pad back and began writing out something else. She glanced up at the ceiling, trying to make some sense out of the myriad of thoughts racing through her head. Why hadn't he been able to ask her that question fifteen months ago? How many times since then had she woken up from the most wonderful dream where it had been Harm on the ferry with her, resplendent in his dress whites, slipping a diamond ring on her finger as she answered 'yes' without hesitation. Only she'd wake up and find it had only been a dream. Now it was real and she couldn't make herself say anything.
No matter how much she wanted to, neither of them could go back and undo past mistakes. They could only go forward, but was this the way to make things better? What if Harm had never crashed? They wouldn't be talking marriage already. The question appeared to be a knee-jerk reaction to their circumstance and she couldn't shake the feeling that it was no more the basis for a marriage than what she'd had with Mic was, even if Harm was the man she was in love with. "I know a lot has happened, but …."
Do you think this is the first time I've thought of this?
She almost laughed when she read that. Sometimes, it was so hard to figure out what he was thinking. "I don't know …." she murmured.
Harm didn't have a reply for that. That had been their problem before, on the ferry, and in many conversations since then. He'd been so unclear in expressing what he'd been thinking on the ferry that it had driven her into another man's arms. He decided to turn his question around and wrote out something, then showed her.
Nor is this the first time you've thought about it. Remember the party?
She didn't even have to think about that one. That idea had haunted her even before she'd said anything at the party, almost since the disastrous ferry ride. Sighing, she nodded sadly. "I said that if things had gone differently on the ferry," she said, "perhaps we still would have been attending an engagement party that night." She turned away, exhaling slowly as she tried to compose a response which wouldn't precipitate an argument. After a few moments, she turned back towards him, but avoided meeting his gaze. "I wish it were that simple, Harm. But we can't go back …."
She looked down as she felt a chill against her hand. Harm had brought his left hand out from under the blanket and was now clasping her hand in his, rubbing his thumb back and forth across her palm. His hand was still so cold against hers, in marked contrast to the warmth that was spreading outward from her palm at his tender touch.
Her eyes finally meeting his, she found herself drowning in their depths. For a moment, she could swear that he was an open book, revealing in his penetrating gaze everything that she'd ever wanted him to say, every feeling that she ever wished he would let show. She opened her mouth, but couldn't trust herself to speak. She was afraid of what might come out of her mouth, scared that she might find herself promising him anything.
"Sarah," he said, cursing to himself when he realized she couldn't hear him through the mask he wore. Sighing, he wrote out what he wanted to say and held out the pad. Mac pulled her hand from his, instantly noting the dissipation of the warmth his touch had brought and mourning it, and read over his words.
I don't see it as going back. I …. it's something I should have done a long time ago.
"I wish it were that simple," she repeated, suddenly jumping up from the bed. She needed to think and to do that she had to put some space between them. Sitting next to him, looking into his eyes, his fingers curled around hers, it would be so easy to let herself fall, but for the sake of everything she hoped they could be to each other, she couldn't afford to do that. Retreating a few feet away from the end of the bed, she turned back around and crossed her arms over her chest, trying to put forth an air of certainty that she didn't feel. "How can we make decisions like this with so much still hanging over our heads? What about Mic and Renee? As much as we'd probably like to forget that they even exist, we can't. They are still so much a part of our lives. We can't just pretend the last two years never happened."
We have to tell them it's over. Do they have to know the reasons why?
Incredulous, she shook her head. "Are you serious?" she demanded. "What makes you think they're not going to know, especially coming on the heels of all this? Have you lost your mind?" Realizing that she was raising her voice, she took a deep breath and continued in a more level tone. "Maybe we should continue this later. You're still, uh, not well and you probably need more time to think …."
Harm held the pad up after a moment and Mac took a few steps towards the bed so she could read what he'd written.
I've done nothing but think, not just last night, but since Wednesday night. Probably even since the party. I've finally figured out what has been there all along.
I can't remember when I haven't loved you.
She covered her mouth with a trembling hand. With just eight words, he'd managed to make her come completely undone. With slow, slightly unsteady steps, she walked up to the head of the bed as Harm pushed a button to raise the head of the bed so that he was in a semi-sitting position. She perched on the edge of the bed next to him, unhesitatingly going into his outstretched arms, burying her face against his throat. Conscious of the IV tubing and the wires from the EKG monitor, she laid down next to him, draping her arm over his chest, the warming blanket between them.
Still wearing his jacket, she couldn't feel his hand as he slowly let it trail up and down her back, but she could hear the soft creak of the leather beneath his touch. Sighing softly, she pressed a light kiss against his throat, pulling back when she felt something odd against her lips. Propping herself up on an elbow, she ran her fingers under his chin, studying the abrasions on his neck. "What happened here?" she asked, forcing her voice to remain calm. If she didn't know better, she'd swear that they were rope burns. What had happened to him out there?
Harm lifted his hand and felt the wounds, closing his eyes as his mind traveled back to the stormy ocean, the cold rain pelting his exposed skin like thousands of sharp needles, the parachute lines tangling, cutting off his air, his finger frantically trying to undo the strap on his helmet in a vain attempt to relieve the pressure. He was brought back to the present by her soft, insistent 'Harm?' He opened his eyes, blinking to clear his vision. He thought he could feel the salt water still stinging his eyes – or was it tears? He couldn't be sure that his mind wasn't playing tricks on him.
Shifting position slightly so he could see what he was writing on the pad held in his hands behind her back, he hesitantly wrote out his reply, trying to come up with a way to put it so that it didn't sound as bad as it really had been. Sighing at the impossible task, he kept his answer as brief as possible. After a few minutes, he pulled his left arm from around her and held out the pad.
Lines got tangled when the chute opened.
"Tangled around your neck?" she asked in a hoarse whisper. If he was telling her what she thought he was, he was nearly strangled by the equipment that was supposed to save his life. Slowly, he nodded, dropping the notebook onto his lap, rubbing his thumb across her one cheekbone then the other, brushing away unchecked tears.
"I was scared," she started softly, so quietly that Harm had to strain to hear her. "When Captain Ingles called me last night, I tried to tell myself that you're the strongest person I know, that you've survived so much adversity. But there was this …. dread in the pit of my stomach. I was so terrified that I'd never get a chance to tell you how much I love you, that we'd never have the opportunity to do so many things, like have that baby we promised each other. I promised myself that we weren't going to waste any more time."
I promised myself the same thing. If nothing else, I guess I realize how short life is and how I …. we can't afford to waste any more time. I want you to wake up every day knowing how much I love you, Sarah. I want to share my life with you.
"I know," she admitted, taking his hand in hers and pressing her lips to his knuckles. She moistened her dry lips with her tongue as she lifted her eyes to meet his, smiling weakly through her still-falling tears. Why had it taken Harm almost dying to be able to open up like this to each other? Even the single, sad, magical night they'd spent together hadn't brought that. "I want the same thing …. so yes, I will marry you."
For a long moment, all was silent but the beeping and blipping of the various machines monitoring Harm's condition. Finally, Mac leaned down, her mouth against his ear. "Did you not hear me?" she asked, her breath hot against his skin. She kept her tone light, almost joking. "I said that I will marry you."
His eyes widened and she thought she could detect his lips curving upward in a smile through the mask. There was so much going through his mind that he could barely process it all. He'd half expected, even had tried to mentally prepare himself to hear her say 'no' or 'not yet'. Now, there would have been an irony. But she'd said 'yes' and he promised himself he was never going to let her go again. He scratched something out and turned the pad to show her what he'd written, causing her to laugh.
I want to kiss you.
"Well, until the doctor says you can remove the oxygen mask," she pointed out, "you'll have to settle for this." Smiling softly, she pressed a kiss to first one cheek, then the other, then finally to the center of his forehead. She settled back down on the bed, pressing herself against his side, slipping one arm under his neck, her other arm draped over him. Harm wrapped one arm around her and held her as tight as he could, smiling. Despite the fact that he was lying in sickbay, hooked up to all manner of machines, he could not remember when his life had been better. What was Mac's mantra – a good man, great career and lots of comfortable shoes? He could see the appeal in its simplicity.
Mac closed her eyes, turning everything over in her mind as she idly traced circles over his chest. She'd just agreed to be Harmon Rabb's wife. Mrs. Harmon Rabb, Jr. Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Rabb. It had a nice ring to it, she thought, and it came so much easier to her than ….
"I'm sorry," a voice said with amusement. Her eyes flew open to find vaguely familiar face looking at them from the edge of the bed. After a moment and a glance at the man's collar insignia, she remembered who he was. It was Father Gilly, the priest who had led the prayer service that morning. Her cheeks flushing red, she pulled out of Harm's embrace and pushed herself into a sitting position, running a hand over her hair, hoping she looked somewhat presentable. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I was just speaking to Doctor Reed and thought I'd stop by and see how Commander Rabb is doing."
"We were just trying to get some sleep," Mac explained hastily. There was nothing really to be embarrassed about – there was even a blanket between them and she was fully dressed - but the man was still a priest. "It's been a long night …."
"I understand, Colonel," he replied gently, his eyes falling on her rank insignia. "By the way, I'm Father Patrick Gilly, the Henry's chaplain. I saw you at the service this morning."
Mac shook his outstretched hand, nodding. "Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie," she introduced herself. "I'm Harm's fiancée." She smiled widely, looking down at Harm at the last part. The words had come surprisingly easily from her mouth and she could see the light in his eyes at her proclamation.
"Congratulations," Gilly said. "Thank God that Commander Rabb was returned to you safely."
"Yes," Mac murmured politely, although she wasn't entirely sure that it wasn't God's fault Harm had even been lost out there. But she was hardly up for a theological debate with a priest.
He seemed to sense the direction of her thoughts and let the subject drop. He'd counseled his fair share of family members after something happened to a service member and could guess what she was probably thinking. Smiling, he asked, "Have you set a date for the wedding yet?"
"Well, things have been kind of crazy recently, even before yesterday," Mac explained, shrugging. Well, that was the truth, so to speak, even without explaining that until yesterday, she'd been engaged to another man and that today was supposed to have been her wedding day. She was barely aware of Harm writing out something as she continued, "After everything has settled down and we have a moment or two to catch our breaths, we'll have to make time to sit down and plan everything out properly."
Harm tapped the back of her hand with the pen and held out the pad to her. She glanced over what he'd written, then read over it again more slowly, unable to believe what she was reading. She shot him an incredulous look as she turned his words over in her mind.
What if Father Gilly marries us today? Then after everything has 'settled down', we can plan another wedding for our families and friends.
She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, unable to make the words come out. Maybe she'd been right earlier. Perhaps he'd lost his mind. "What about, um, everything?" she asked quietly, placing special emphasis on the final word. Without hesitation, Harm wrote out a reply and showed it to her.
This would be just for us. Why would anyone have to know anything until after all that is settled? Then we can tell our friends that we're engaged and have a small ceremony that those closest to us can attend. That is what you wanted, isn't it – a small wedding?
"You remember my saying that?" she asked in wonder, remembering her and Mic's differing ideas at their double date a few months earlier about the setting for their wedding. After their night out, the polite discord had given way to a major disagreement, Mic somehow getting his way in the end – how, she still wasn't quite sure. Mic, the person most immediately involved, hadn't seemed to hear a word she'd said. Harm had not only heard, but he'd remembered months later.
You wanted a small wedding on a hillside, but I draw the line at the goats. You know, there's a nice hill on my grandmother's farm …. I'd love to take you there.
In spite of her uncertainty, she laughed out loud at his attempt to put her at ease. "I'll give you that one," she promised, "and your grandmother's farm probably isn't a bad idea. I'm sure I'd love it up there. But going back to what we were discussing …."
A thoughtful expression in his eyes, Harm tapped his pen against the notebook while he considered what he wanted to say. Finally, he scribbled out something and showed it to her.
I want to pledge myself to you before God, even if only the two of us and a handful of people here on the ship know about it. I – I realize that it's probably not your dream wedding, but at least we'll know that we've got the rest of our lives ahead of us – together.
"Harm, I do know that," she replied. "Even if I've had doubts about it in the past, I know now how you feel and I hope that you realize how much I love you, too."
He sighed in frustration, the sound lost in the mask he wore. How could he explain to her that which he could barely explain to himself? He wasn't sure he wanted to, or could, explain about Diane and his dream – hallucination? He was pretty sure that it was still an uncomfortable subject for them, to a certain degree anyway. He just knew that he'd missed out on so much – with Diane because of her death and with Mac because of so many things which hardly seemed to matter anymore – and he didn't want that anymore. He was a lawyer who'd swayed judges and juries with stirring arguments. Why was it so hard to talk to this one woman?
Smiling as inspiration struck, he began writing again while Gilly, his presence seemingly forgotten by Harm and Mac, watched the by-play between the two. Even after just a few minutes, he could see the obvious love between them. He'd seen how Mac's eyes had positively lit up, her expression softening, when she'd introduced herself as Harm's fiancée and again when she'd just softly proclaimed her love. Harm's expression was harder to read, mostly because of the oxygen mask, but Gilly thought he saw the same thing in Harm's eyes when he looked at Mac.
He wasn't sure what they were discussing so intently, but he had his suspicion based on experience and the seemingly innocent question he'd asked about when they would get married. He'd seen it both before and after the Gulf War, and other situations demanding longer than usual, or sudden, deployments. There'd practically been a line outside his office, then at Miramar, of sailors and Marines looking to hastily marry before being shipped off to war or after coming back. A fellow chaplain had said, only half-jokingly, that there was nothing like facing one's mortality in war to provoke either religious fervor – church attendance did tend to go up during those times - or grand declarations of love. Gilly was still idealistic enough to think of it as people realizing what was truly important in life.
Unaware of the priest's scrutiny, Harm finished what he was writing and hesitantly handed the pad back to Mac. This was perhaps the closing argument of his life. As she took it from him, her fingers brushed against his, the jolt of electricity from such a simple contact seeming to spread throughout her entire body. Taking a shaky breath, trying to control her racing heart, she focused on the words in front of her.
I know I'm not very good at this kind of thing. I didn't have any poetic words and phrases to declare my love with. I don't even have a ring to put on your finger – unless you'd like to wear my Academy ring, even if it is about five or six sizes too large for you. I don't even have my dress whites to dazzle you with, even if you once claimed they're overrated. All I have to offer you right now is my love.
All I can say is that I love you and I don't want to waste another day. We've wasted so much time already. I know a lot of that is my fault and a lot of it probably goes back to my decision to return to active flight status and what I didn't say on the ferry. So many times, and not just since Wednesday, I've wondered where we would be right now if not for all that. Maybe you were right and we would have been celebrating at our engagement party a few weeks ago. Or maybe we'd already be married and thinking about making good on a certain promise we once made.
I love you, Sarah Mackenzie, and I want to show you how much I've loved you, just about from the moment I first met you. I know you're probably going to find that one hard to believe, given …. other circumstances, but I meant it when I said I can't remember when I haven't loved you. And when we were separated – the month you spent at Dalton's firm, my five months aboard the Henry – those were some of the hardest times of my life. And last night, I tried not to think about the idea that I might never see you again, that you might never know …. all this. But I couldn't stop myself from thinking it and the idea scared me. I know you probably thought you'd ever hear something like that from me. But you know what else? It gave me a reason to keep fighting. You're the reason I'm still here.
I don't know what else to say to you, except that I love you and I want to spend my life with you.
"Oh, Harm," she whispered, clasping his hand in hers, her eyes shining bright with unshed tears. She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers. "I love you and I want to spend my life with you."
Harm started to pull his hand from hers so he could write something else, but she shook her head, maintaining her hold. Swallowing nervously, she turned to Gilly. "Father, Harm and I have a request," she said, smiling when she felt Harm's fingers tighten around hers. "As you know, we're planning to get married. After everything that's happened, um, last night, we don't want to waste any more time. We want to be together. If you will agree, we'd like to have a small ceremony today, just for us."
"I see," Gilly said, pulling up a stool at the end of the bed and sitting down, a thoughtful expression on face. Although the request was hardly unexpected, he was about to jump on the bandwagon just yet. He wouldn't be doing his job if he did. These days, he saw far too many marriages that seemed to start out so perfect go up in flames. "I don't think I have to explain to either of you how big a step marriage is."
"Believe me, Father," Mac said with certainty, "if nothing else, we realize how serious this is. And God knows …." She stopped suddenly, as if remembering to whom she was talking. "Sorry, Father. Anyway, if it hadn't been for a lot of mistakes – on both our parts – we wouldn't be having this discussion, because it wouldn't be necessary. We would most likely already be married, or just about there. We've learned a lot recently, about each other and the mistakes we've made – and we just want the chance to finally do it right."
"What about your friends and families?" he asked. "I cannot understate the importance of having a support system, the love and support of those closest to you. No person is an island and neither is a couple."
Harm motioned to Mac to let him answer the question. She nodded assent and he wrote out a reply. Watching him, she noticed that he was having an easier time putting the words on paper, that he didn't seem to be moving quite as stiffly. He showed her the pad when he was finished and she relayed his words to the priest. "Harm says that we do know that and we do want them to participate in celebrating our love, which is why we have discussed having another ceremony later – after Harm's had a chance to recover and we get a chance to plan - that those closest to us can attend."
"Actually, another ceremony would probably be a necessity," Gilly pointed out. "I'm hardly an expert on this aspect – we don't perform weddings at sea in the Navy, since regs prohibit married couples from serving together – and although any ceremony I perform would be valid in the eyes of the Church, the civil authorities wherever you live might want something a little more, uh, legally binding, with blood tests and a marriage license issued by whatever state you reside in."
"The lawyers should have thought of that one," Mac joked, glancing at Harm. She was smiling as she said it, but her voice had a hint of uncertainty. There was a part of her inside that was suggesting maybe she could use that as a basis for putting the brakes on this entire thing, but her heart was refusing to listen.
Gives us perfect reason for another wedding.
"I agree," she said, forcing back her unease. She loved Harm and was going to hold onto that. Together, surely they could work the rest out. She turned back to the priest and relayed what Harm had written. The priest chuckled, then quickly turned serious.
"Normally, there are procedures to be followed, even for a religious ceremony," he said. "Just as for a civil ceremony there is paperwork to fill out, blood work to be done, there are things that we do to prepare a couple on the religious side of things. Now, I remember Commander Rabb from when he served aboard the Henry previously, so I already know his answer to this question, so this is directed at you, Colonel Mackenzie. What is your religious preference – assuming you have one, that is?"
"Catholic," she replied. "I assume when you're talking about procedures, you're referring mostly to pre-Cana – or more accurately in my case, Cana II?"
Gilly nodded. "You've done your research," he commented. "And you've been married before, if you already know that Cana II is the appropriate conference in your case."
"Civilly, anyway," she explained. "My first marriage took place outside the Church. When the subject of pre-Cana was first broached, I had a couple of interesting conversations with the priest about whether the normal session or Cana II would be more appropriate." It had more than a grain of truth to it. When she and Mic had their first meeting with the chaplain who would have performed their ceremony, it had been debated which session they should attend. Technically, her first marriage was not recognized by the Church, so the priest had suggested that the regular pre-Cana conference was more appropriate, but she'd been concerned about being in a class with people who'd never been married before, even if she was in the same position in the eyes of the Church. If part of the point of pre-Cana was meeting other couples in the same situation, how could any of them understand what she'd gone through in her first marriage? After a few intense discussions – during which Mic had backed her up - the priest had finally conceded her point and she and Mic had attended Cana II. Not that she felt any more comfortable there, but she could admit now that feeling had less to do with the marriage preparations and more to do with the man she'd agreed to marry.
"So, have you already attended the conference or were you still in the information gathering stage?" he asked.
Squeezing Harm's hand quickly as she glanced at him, she hoped he understood her unspoken signal to agree with what she was about to say. "We've been," she replied, mentally crossing her fingers. "With our careers, it's been hard with the planning. Either of us can – and often are – sent out of town on a moment's notice. We had an opportunity to go ahead and attend the conference, so we took it, even though we hadn't set a date yet." Actually, that was partially true in her and Mic's case, as well. Even though they hadn't been close to setting a date and wouldn't for nearly two more months, Mic had signed them up for the session at the cathedral within a week after she'd moved the ring over.
"In that case, I'll save the discussion on the role of marriage in the Church, since you've already heard it," he said. "Normally, we'd also need to see certain documents attesting the fact that you are authorized to participate in the sacrament of marriage in the Church – baptismal, first communion and confirmation certificates, whatever documents you have, Colonel, attesting to the dissolution of your first marriage by either divorce or death, even though the marriage wasn't recognized in the eyes of the Church. But since you said you've already attended pre-Cana and would have had to present these documents to your local priest, I think I can safely wave those requirements given the unique circumstances."
"Thank you," Mac said, even as she realized that it would have given them an out if he'd insisted on seeing the documentation. Although she knew where all her certificates were since she'd had to find them when planning her wedding to Mic, she had no way to get a hold of them at the moment and for all she knew, Harm's stuff could be anywhere, possibly even at his parents' in California. Father Gilly seemed willing to perform a ceremony for them, so there didn't seem to be anything stopping them. "So, when would we do this?"
"Well, you'll need a couple of witnesses," he said. "And I'll need to get my Bible and see if I have a blank marriage certificate in my files, so everything's as official as we can make it. Do you need any more time to prepare?"
"I guess I should probably clean up a little bit," Mac said, the nervousness in her voice just barely detectable. She looked down at her clothes and chuckled softly. "I didn't know I'd be getting married today or I would have brought something other than my uniform."
Harm scratched out a quick response and showed her what he'd written.
You look beautiful.
"Yours is hardly an objective opinion," she retorted in a teasing tone, her cheeks tinged pink at the compliment. She thought about it a moment, then turned back to Gilly. "How about in an hour?"
"That's fine," he said as he stood to leave. "One more thing – did you have any specific verses in mind for readings or would you like me to just pick something appropriate?"
Her eyes widened, almost like a deer caught in headlights. Not being particularly religious – she couldn't even remember the last time she'd picked up a Bible - she'd had a hard time with that when the chaplain had asked her and Mic the same thing. In the end, she'd thought it easier to just go along with Mic's suggestions. Just like everything else, he'd known just what he wanted there. "Um, I don't know," she answered. "We were still in the discussion stages on that, so you can just pick whatever you think is appropriate."
He nodded, merely chalking up her reticence to pre-marital jitters and the stress of everything that had happened. "Okay," he said. "I'll leave you alone then and see you in an hour."
Harm turned around his pad so Gilly could read what he'd just written.
Thank you, Father. I – we really appreciate this.
"You're welcome," he said, smiling. "I'll see you both later."
As Gilly walked out, Harm watched Mac and the emotions flitting across her face as she crossed her arms over her chest, rubbing her arms as if cold. Once they were alone, Harm nudged her to get her attention, handing her his notebook.
Are you okay? If you want to wait ….
"No," she said quickly. Putting on the best smile she could, she took a deep breath and continued, "I'm just …. I can't believe we're really doing this. I think it's just hitting me and I've got a good case of butterflies in my stomach. Everything's just moving so fast …."
Too fast? We don't have to get married today. I don't want you to feel pressured.
"I'm not feeling pressured," she said, attempting a reassuring tone. "I just can't believe this is happening. This is how I wished I had felt …. " She trailed off, shaking her head. "No, that doesn't matter. You and I are getting married and that's what is important now. Nothing else."
What about witnesses? I know you don't really know anyone on the ship all that well, but I was thinking Skates and Tuna could stand up for us – at least if she's up to it. I know you'd probably prefer to have Harriet here for you, and Chloe.
"I like Skates," Mac said. "I don't have a problem with her standing as witness for us. I can go ask her – she's in another part of sickbay since she'd not in as bad a shape as you. Why don't I go check on her while you – I don't know – get some rest or something." She was about to get up to leave when Harm started to write something. She hesitated, waiting to see what he had to say.
Who could rest now?
She stared at him in wonder. Could the normally confident, self-assured Harmon Rabb possibly be just as nervous as she was? Her eyes met his and she could see so much in them – a hint of nervousness, excitement, joy and, best of all, the love she'd always wanted to see in their depths. Smiling almost shyly, she lowered her eyes. "I know what you mean," she said softly.
His hand closed around her wrist and she lifted her head at his soft, hoarse 'Sarah' to find that he'd once again pulled oxygen mask from over his mouth and was using his free arm – the one unencumbered by the IV and blood pressure cuff – to push himself into a sitting position, wincing as his battered and bruised body protested the movement. He squeezed his eyes shut against a sudden flash of pain in the back of his head, forcing them open again, hoping that Mac wouldn't realize the effort just this little amount of motion took. Breathing slowly in an attempt to keep the dizziness at bay, he gently tugged on her arm and she perched back on the edge of the bed, allowing him to pull her against his chest.
Mac willingly sank into his embrace. Even through her clothes, she could feel how chilled he still was and she suddenly remembered their night in the mountains, when she'd been the one injured and he'd held her close throughout the night as she'd alternately shivered and burned as infection set in. She wished she could do something to provide even a little of the comfort he'd once given her.
"I love you," he said in a ragged whisper as she lifted her head. Their gazes locked and for what seemed like the longest moment of their lives to both of them, they simply looked their fill of each other. For two people whose lives were often filled with so much turmoil, it was the rarest of moments, when for a brief period of time both would have sworn that their lives couldn't be more perfect. All that mattered in that moment was that they had each other. Everything which might have weighed them down just seemed to fall away.
Almost tentatively, Harm dipped his head, his lips first lightly brushing over hers. She felt so warm, so inviting and gradually, he deepened the kiss, gently parting her lips with his tongue. He started to circle his arms around her, intending to pull her closer, thinking better of it when the IV tubing pulled taunt, trying not to wince when his skin was pulled where the IV needle was inserted and taped to his forearm.
As if she was reading his mind, Mac slid closer, tentatively wrapping her arms around him, careful not to hold him too tight lest she aggravate any injuries. Her eyes fluttered closed as she lost herself to a kiss unlike any other they'd shared, so soft and achingly sweet that it brought tears to her eyes.
Her lips curved upward in a smile as they reluctantly pulled apart, resting their foreheads together, Harm's hand soothingly stroking her hair. Sighing softly, she echoed, "I love you, too." She allowed another moment to enjoy the peace and serenity before pulling out of his arms, gently helping him to lie back against his pillows, tenderly tucking his blanket back around him. She gave him one more brief kiss before setting the mask over his nose and mouth again. "I'll be back soon."
It was a few more minutes before she could make herself pull away and walk out of the sickbay's critical care ward. After stepping through the hatch, she turned and watched him for another moment as he closed his eyes, a smile on his face. She tried to remember the last time she'd seen him looking so relaxed, but failed. If she could be the one to bring a little bit of peace to a man whose life had been filled with anything but, then it would all be worth it, she told herself. It had to be.
-----
LIEUTENANT HAWKES' CABIN
Not long after Harm had finally been brought on board, the doctor treating her had deemed Skates well enough to be released from sickbay. She and Robert had popped their heads into the critical ward, to assure themselves that Harm was going to be okay, but they hadn't stayed. Harm appeared to have managed to drift off to sleep and Mac was tossing restlessly on her cot, so they'd silently agreed to allow the couple some much needed rest and had retreated to Skates' cabin.
Her roommate Jessica Hanson, a lieutenant from communications, was on duty, so they had it to themselves. After a few teasing comments about hot-bunking fantasies, they'd curled up together on her bottom bunk, her back against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her, almost as if he was afraid to let her go. They'd managed to drift off, only to wake up less than half an hour later as Skates got caught up in a dream of pounding rain and bone-chilling water which only hours before had been all to real for her.
Both of them unable to fall back asleep, they'd laid there together, talking about everything and nothing – a few minor changes in the catering menu for their wedding reception, an amusing anecdote about Robert's infant nephew who'd just recently acquired the skill of walking and who seemed to find it quite fun to fall on his rear end and watch all the adults rush to make sure he was alright, a practical joke pulled by Tuna and Boomer on some of the guys in crypto in response to one pulled on them the previous week. Everything except the subject hanging most heavily over their heads – the few hours the night before when Skates had nearly been lost forever.
Robert tried a few times to gently draw her out, but she'd resisted all his efforts and he let the subject drop. He trusted that she would open up to him eventually, as she'd often said that one of the reasons she'd fallen in love with him was that he was so easy to talk to, so for now he was satisfied to allow her the time to come to terms with her ordeal for herself.
Talk eventually returned to the subject of their wedding. With the day just five weeks away, there still seemed to be a million details to be taken care of and since the point of her taking leave this weekend had been to work on some of those, it seemed natural to discuss the topic in depth. And it gave Skates something to focus on in the attempt to push aside what had happened the night before.
"I got a call from my mother a few days ago," Robert said, covering one of her hands with his, weaving his fingers through hers. Skates tightened her fingers around his in return, as if she didn't want to let him go. "She wanted to know what kinds of flowers we were planning to have because she has concerns about some cousin or something on her side of the family who is allergic."
"And she's just bringing this up now?" Skates asked, incredulous. She had a pretty good relationship with her future in-laws, but as the wedding drew closer, her mother-in-law's subtle – and not-so-subtle - attempts to meddle in the planning were beginning to grate on her nerves. More accurately, they were getting on Skates' mother's nerves, with the bride and groom caught in the middle. If she didn't know her mother would kill her for cheating her out of the chance to plan a wedding for her only daughter, Skates would be all to happy to elope.
"Well, I did ask her that if they couldn't handle sitting in a church with flowers at the ends of the pews for forty-five minutes," he replied with a chuckle, "how were they planning to survive the outdoor reception. She was not amused." In fact, she'd bent his ear for half an hour, going on about how he was being so inconsiderate of poor cousin Charles who was so severely allergic that he rarely ventured outdoors from March to October. He loved her, but he was under no illusions about the fact that his mother was one of the most overbearing people he knew.
"I don't think you want to know what my mother said if your mother sticks her nose …." She trailed off at the sound of a knock on the door. "Yes?"
"Skates?" She couldn't help the brief panic that seized her at the sound of Mac's voice on the other side of the door, but she took a deep breath and told herself to relax. If something were wrong with Harm, the last place Mac would be was outside her cabin door. "It's Colonel Mackenzie. I have a favor to ask of you."
She glanced at Robert and shrugged, unable to imagine what she could do for Mac. Pulling herself from his arms, she climbed out of bed and crossed the short distance to the hatch, pulling it open and motioning Mac inside. Studying the other woman carefully, she thought she looked an odd mixture of exhausted, nervous and excited. "What can I do for you, Colonel?" she asked, pulling out the desk chair and offering it to Mac. "How's Harm?"
Grateful, she sank into the chair, not sure she had the strength to remain standing. She promised to make herself get at least a few hours sleep after the wedding since she definitely wasn't going to be getting a honeymoon. She stifled a yawn as she ran her hand over her tired eyes. "Harm's holding his own," she replied. "He's almost out of the woods as far as the hypothermia is concerned. His temperature is just below 95 degrees. He sounds congested – he's coughing now that he's warming up – but he's getting heated oxygen, which is supposed to help with that. How about you? I went looking for you in sickbay, but Doctor Reed said he'd released you several hours ago."
"I wasn't really in the water long enough to matter," she said somewhat reluctantly, feeling bad about being so lucky when Harm had nearly died. She sat on the edge of her bunk next to Robert, her hand clasping his. "I got banged up a little when I ejected. It's nothing that a long, hot bath wouldn't cure, if I could get one, anyway. I was worse off after my first crash."
"Harm will be glad to hear that," Mac said. "I think he wasn't entirely sure the doctor was being straight with him when he said you were going to be fine, but Harm was hardly in a position at the time to argue with Doctor Reed."
"We were planning to come by sickbay later," Skates said, "maybe after dinner. We checked in when I was released, but you and Harm were resting, so we didn't stick around."
"Well, uh, that brings me to the favor I need," Mac said. "And considering what I'm about to ask, perhaps you should call me Mac. Maybe you could come by sickbay in about an hour, maybe a little less?"
"Sure, uh, Mac," Skates agreed, perplexed. "For what, exactly?"
"A wedding," she said, lowering her eyes. "Um, Harm and I are getting married."
"Congratulations," Robert exclaimed, unaware that this might be more than slightly out of the ordinary. Skates said nothing, studying Mac intently.
"Thank you," Mac said, looking back up, although she avoided looking directly at Skates. She was probably one of a very few people on the ship who knew that there was more to this story than two people grabbing onto what was important after a life-threatening situation. "We'll have another ceremony later, maybe later in the summer, for all our friends and family, but we really wanted to do this now for us."
"Hey, if we didn't already have most everything done," Robert joked, smiling at Skates, "I'd probably have the same idea. But our mothers would kill us for different reasons."
"Anyway, you're both invited," Mac continued, "and Skates, Harm and I were hoping you'd stand up for us. He's also planning to ask Tuna. Father Gilly's going to perform a ceremony in sickbay for us. I think that will be it – unless Harm wants to invite a few of his pilot friends from when he was here before." She tried to control her grimace, remembering the chilly reception she'd received in the chapel that morning. Even after a year and a half, many of them had not forgotten X-Man's trial or the way he'd been forced to give up his wings, even if the last wasn't directly her fault.
Skates caught the flash of distaste before Mac masked her expression, understanding immediately. "I saw Tuna when I was still in sickbay," she commented. "I understand you received a less than welcome reception at the prayer service this morning. I'm sorry about that."
Mac shrugged. "Well, the plan is tomorrow that Harm and I will be getting off this boat," she rationalized. "Why worry about it? If it's important to Harm that some of his old squadron mates are there, I can live with that. Anyway, I prosecuted you and, if you agree, you'll be standing up for me."
"Now there's irony for you," Robert joked, remembering his own assumptions when he'd first met Mac in Norfolk. "Well, I can't answer for Beth, but I'd be happy to attend. I think we can use something to celebrate after last night."
"Yeah, I'll be there, too," Skates said, her tone not as certain, although she tried to mask it. "And I'd be happy to stand up for you."
"Thank you," Mac said, brushing aside the hesitation she heard in Skates' voice. Or maybe she was just imagining it, projecting her own uncertainty into the other woman's tone. "I, um, guess I should get going. I need to get ready." She glanced at the uniform and leather jacket she wore and chuckled ruefully. "Not exactly my dream wedding dress, or outfit I guess, since I'm wearing pants." Not to mention the fact that she hadn't been assigned guest quarters. She guessed she'd have to find the head nearest sickbay. At least it wouldn't be quite as cramped as the head she'd changed in on the Watertown.
"I can't do anything about the outfit," Skates said. "I have a few nice dresses that I wear when I go on liberty, but I doubt any of them would fit you. But I do have a curling iron and some makeup, if you'd like some help getting ready."
"Yeah, that would be great, Skates," she replied. "I hadn't really thought about what I would do to get ready."
"Okay, then," Skates said. Turning to her fiancé, she playfully shoved him towards the door. "You. Out."
Although he was pretty sure he didn't want to stick around for what he was sure would amount to a bunch of girl talk, he put up a teasing token protest. "And do what?" he asked.
"I don't know," she replied, pretending frustration. "Go find the PAO and talk shop, or get together with Tuna and see if you can do anything for Hammer. I don't care. Just get out of here and I'll meet you in sickbay in forty-five minutes."
"Fine," he retorted, putting on his best puppy-dog expression. "A guy knows when he's not wanted."
"You!" Skates countered, giving him a very quick kiss, conscious of the senior officer in the room, before opening the door for him. She lowered her voice as she stuck her head out the door, watching him start down the passageway. "I love you, Robert."
"I love you, too, Elizabeth," he replied. She watched him walk away for another moment before stepping back into her cabin, closing the door behind her. Avoiding looking at Mac, she retrieved her curling iron and set it on the desk, plugging it into the outlet behind the desk to heat. "I've got a hair dryer as well, if you want to wash your hair, or take a quick shower …."
"Skates, would you like to tell me what's bothering you?" Mac asked. She wasn't sure why she was asking, wasn't even sure that Skates would breech protocol to say just what was on her mind. Maybe she wanted to hear someone else express the doubts she couldn't quite suppress in her own mind.
"It's not my place, ma'am," she replied, falling back on formality.
"No, I want to hear this," Mac insisted, turning around to lean over the back of the chair, resting her chin on her folded arms. "Forget about rank for a while. You're Harm's friend and you're going to stand up at my wedding. I want to hear what you're thinking."
"I'm not so sure that you do," Skates countered stiffly.
"I'm not going to hurt him," Mac said softly. "I love him, more than I thought I could love anyone. You know what that's like."
Skates glanced up at the ceiling, attempting to frame her response properly. She did like Mac, but she'd seen and heard too much in the time she'd been partnered with Harm in the air. A little knowledge …. "But you already have," she said softly. She was instantly apologetic. "Damn. Look, maybe this isn't such a good idea."
"Are you talking about the last two days or something else?" Mac asked, grabbing her arm to stop her before she could retreat to the other side of the room.
Skates sighed. There was no way she was going to get out of this, was she? "Hammer was spectacular out there," she explained. "He received the highest score of all the pilots, even after that rough wave-off on our first attempt. I don't know if he told you about that when you talked to him last night. But he took no joy in it. His responses were textbook perfect, almost automated. But that's not Hammer. It's not the way he flies."
"No, it's not," she agreed sadly. "And I know that it's partly my fault, especially after what happened in Norfolk." She hesitated. It had been hard enough getting into that with Harriet and Chloe and she knew them better than just about anyone. "Anyway, there are two sides to every story and Harm's made his share of mistakes in our relationship, going back to when he returned to active flight status."
"He was happy being back in the air back then," Skates recalled, "but there was sadness there, too. He resisted talking about what he left behind in Washington. Tuna and I both got the impression that very few people were happy that he left JAG and I think he was a little, uh, concerned about the reception he would get when he decided to go back."
"I know I could have been a little – no, a lot – more supportive," Mac rationalized, "but he hurt me, too. He didn't even tell me he'd had surgery to correct his vision, didn't mention that he wanted to return to active flight status until he'd already given the request to the Admiral. I accused him of considering flying as more important that, um, everything he had in Washington and the way he left with barely a word seemed to confirm that."
"As long as we're being open and honest, tell me something," Skates requested. In for a penny, in for a pound. She wondered what Mac was thinking that she wanted to hear someone else's doubts about her relationship. "I, uh, heard a couple of corpsman talking when I was still in sickbay. They said that Hammer might not fly again, that the multiple ejections might now prove to be too much for him to recover from."
"Harm and I have already been informed of that," Mac said slowly. Her eyes widened as she realized what Skates was getting at. "What are you asking me, how I would feel if Harm can't pass the flight physical? I admit I would be lying if there isn't a small part of me, deep down inside, that would not be disappointed if he were to never climb into the cockpit of an F-14 again. But Harm and I have also managed to work out some of the issues that have haunted us since he was here before. I don't have to question where I stand in his priorities anymore, especially compared to a Tomcat. Tell me something. You're in a relationship with someone who's based on land. You're probably lucky if you see him a handful of times a year. Have you never even thought about some of the same things that managed to tear Harm and I apart for so long, ever had your careers come between you?"
"Yes, I have thought about them," she replied, her voice quiet with a just barely detectible tremor. "Robert and I have had many long discussions about our careers and what they mean to us. That's why I made the decision to request a transfer to a land-based assignment."
"You're giving up your wings?" Mac asked, surprised. Skates nodded.
"It wasn't a decision I made lightly," she explained. "And I even made Robert play devil's advocate, just to be sure I was making the right decision. He said in the end that he would support whatever decision I made, but I want this. Robert and I have talked about starting a family, which I can't very well do if I'm on a carrier six months out of the year, at least not very easily. And because of regs, we can't both serve on the same carrier if he were to request a sea assignment."
"I've always known what flying means to Harm," Mac said. She told herself that she would not cry. She'd shed all her tears on that subject long ago. "All I wanted two years ago was to know that it wasn't his entire world, that I could fit into his world somewhere. I didn't necessarily want him to give up his dreams. If he'd asked me to, I would have been there for him. But he never asked and the longer we went with so little contact, the easier it was to believe that he didn't care about me as much as I did about him." Skates looked like she was about to say something, but Mac held up her hand. "And I'm sure now that the reverse was also true, that Harm was hoping I would reach out just as much as I wanted him to."
"Mac, I will admit that I'm not the most objective person," Skates said. "Harm saved my life back on the Sea Hawk, he stood by me when everyone from Captain Ingles on down wanted my head on a platter. And I know I've seen more than I should have, how it hurt him when he wouldn't hear from his friends back in Washington, how happy he was to see you when you were here but sad that you couldn't seem to really connect, and how it would have been the hardest thing in the world for him to watch you marry another man. I just want to see him happy, and if you can do that for him …."
"Skates, there's nothing that I want more," Mac interrupted, her voice soft, yet determined. "If I could go back and change so much that happened over the last two years – be more supportive of Harm's pursuing his dream, not agree to marry a man I don't love – I would. But all we can is move forward and make the best of the second chance that we've been given."
Skates lowered her eyes. She felt bad about bringing all this up. It really was none of her business and she was still a junior officer. Mac's sincerity and the love she could see in her eyes for Harm tugged at Skates' heart strings. She smiled warmly. "You know, if you want to get that shower, you probably should get going," she suggested. "You're getting married in …."
"Forty-two minutes," Mac supplied as she rose from her chair. At Skates' surprised look, she shrugged. "I've got great timing." Realizing what she'd just said, she burst out laughing.
"What's so funny?" Skates asked.
"That's what I told Harm," she remembered, "the first day we met, when I told him we had thirty-three minutes to catch our flight to Arizona."
Skates joined her in laughing, the fond memory telling her that there were a lot of good things in Harm and Mac's relationship that she knew next to nothing about. She was being too judgmental, she decided. "Why don't you get going?" she suggested. "The hair dryer is on a shelf above the toilet."
"Skates," Mac said, poised to step into the bathroom. Skates turned to her, a questioning look on her face. "Thanks, um, for being honest. I do love him and everything will work out."
"I hope so," Skates whispered after Mac had closed the bathroom door behind her. A thoughtful expression crossed her face as her eyes fell on a velvet jewelry box sitting on her desk. Picking it up, she pulled it open and stared at the contents. The box was a little waterlogged – it had been in a pocket of her flight suit when she'd gone down the night before – but the contents were still in perfect condition.
Snapping the box closed, she picked up the phone and dialed communications. "Hey, Jess," she said as her roommate came on the line. "Just the person I was hoping to catch. I need a favor – two actually. Page Robert and patch him through down here …. I'm not sure where he is; I tossed him out of the cabin a few minutes ago. I'm helping some friends out with some stuff …. Yes, and do you still have that dress that you wore when we were on liberty in Spain? You know, the cream-colored sleeveless one …. Okay, Hammer's getting married in sickbay and if I don't find something for her to wear, Mac's going to have to wear Marine green …. I won't tell her you said that. That's a Lieutenant Colonel in the Marines you're talking about there …. she's about your size and the color would look great on her …. Jess, you are a lifesaver. Thanks."
Hanging up the phone, she went to the closet and pulled out the dress in question. The linen dress was simple, but the form-fitting sleeveless design had turned heads when Jess had worn it in Barcelona. Hardly a typical wedding dress, but for the small ceremony that Harm and Mac were going to have, it would be perfect. Going back into the closet, she pulled out a dress for herself, a pale blue one similar to the other dress except that hers had elbow-length sleeves. Swiftly peeling off the PT outfit she'd been wearing, she pulled pantyhose then the dress, slipping on a pair of flats. Perfect, she thought as the phone rang.
"Hey, Robert," she said in a rush after she picked up the phone. "I was just thinking. Harm and Mac have been through a lot and deserve to have a ceremony as perfect as we can make it. I found dresses that Mac and I can wear instead of our uniforms, but something occurred to me. They don't have wedding rings. I don't even think either of them have thought about it."
"If ours will fit, they can have those," Robert said. "We have five weeks to find another set of rings."
"One of the reasons I love you so much," Skates replied. "You're reading my mind. I'll have Mac try my ring on and see if she knows what size Harm wears."
"Good," Robert said. He hesitated a moment. "Beth, is everything okay? I got the feeling that you weren't exactly enthusiastic at Mac's news."
"You noticed that," she said, imagining his responding nod. "Well, I know some things – probably too much for my own good – and I was worried about a good friend. But Mac and I talked and everything's okay. She and Harm have been through a lot and deserve to be happy."
"She told me about some of her and Harm's adventures last night," he said. "They've been through a lot together and that's a strong bond, but I could also see how much she loves him. It was so obvious last night."
Skates figured that as talkative as Mac had been, there was still a lot that she hadn't said about her and Harm's relationship, not to Robert. Even to her, she hadn't given a lot of specifics. "You know, it's kind of funny," she commented. "I've always gotten the impression that she's a private person."
"The last twelve hours have been very hard on her," he pointed out. "I guess even the most private person would need to talk to someone. I think last night she could relate to me because we were in a similar situation and you are a fellow bride, in addition to being Harm's friend."
"I guess," she said, not quite convinced. There was still something that she couldn't quite put her finger on, but she decided that it didn't really matter. As the bathroom door opened and Mac stepped out, she added, "I'll see you in sickbay in a little bit, Robert. Thanks."
After she hung up, she turned to Mac. "That was fast," she said.
"I've learned how to be ready to go at a moment's notice," she said. She eyed Skates, a bit surprised at her appearance. "Nice dress."
"Thanks," Skates said, turning around and picking up the dress she'd hung on the bed frame. "This one's for you. My roommate's about your size, although I think she's a couple of inches taller than you, so the dress might be a little long."
"I don't know …." Mac began. This seemed almost too much.
"Jess was happy to help out when I asked her," Skates assured her, handing her the dress. "Her feet are larger than yours, but I think I have some shoes close to the same color as the dress that will fit you. Sorry we can't do anything about flowers. Fresh flowers are not something you're going to find aboard ship. But even if you're going to have another ceremony with a proper dress and flowers and all that later, that doesn't mean we can't make today as special as possible."
"I've got Harm," Mac said, "and I've decided that's all I need. I had the perfect dress, a cathedral, and enough pomp and circumstance to rival a royal wedding and the entire time I felt like I was watching someone else live my life. It wasn't what I wanted, no matter how hard I tried to convince myself otherwise."
"And Harm is?" she inquired, already knowing the answer.
Mac's entire face lit up as she simply replied, "Yes."
Skates gestured to the desk chair as she picked up the hot curling iron. "Then take a seat and let's finish getting you ready," she said. "By the way, the box on the desk is for you – you and Harm, really. Consider it a wedding present from me and Robert."
As Skates went back into the bathroom to grab a comb and hair spray, Mac picked up the jewelry box, startled to find that it was damp. Snapping it open, her eyes widened in surprise. She turned around as Skates came back into the room. "These are beautiful, but this really is too much," she insisted, shutting the box and setting it back on the desk. "These are supposed to be your wedding rings."
"You two should be able to exchange rings," Skates pointed out, combing out a section of Mac's hair and wrapping it around the iron, holding it for a few seconds then releasing the curl. "I had those in one of the pockets of my flight suit. I'm not sure why. I'd put them in my duffel bag at first, then something made me take them out and carry them on me. I guess someone was trying to tell me something."
"These survived the crash?"
She nodded. "Anyway, Robert and I still have five weeks before our wedding," she pointed out. "We can easily go shopping for rings. It's …. well, I won't say that it isn't a big deal, but we both agree that we wanted you and Harm to have them." She studied Mac's hand critically. "I think mine will fit you. Do you know what size ring Harm wears?"
"He was making a joke earlier about using his Academy ring as an engagement ring," she said, hesitantly pulling the smaller ring out of the box and studying it. The white gold band had starburst patterns cut into the ring all the way around. Slowly, she slipped it on her finger, somehow not surprised to find that it fit almost perfectly. It was a little loose, but not too much so that she couldn't wear the ring. "He said it would be about five or six sizes too large for me, so I'd say an eleven or twelve."
"Then Robert's ring should fit him fine," Skates said. "The rings can be your something new, your dress is borrowed." She paused thoughtfully, tapping her finger against her cheek. She crossed the small room to her lock box and dialed the combination, withdrawing a long, flat velvet box. "These belonged to my grandmother and even though I rarely have an opportunity to wear them, I keep them with me out of sentimental value – carefully locked away, of course." She opened the box and showed Mac the single strand of pearls. "You can borrow these for your something old. I'm not sure what to do for the something blue. I don't suppose you have anything blue on you."
Mac shook her head. "I didn't expect to be getting married," she pointed out, then laughed. Well, at least she hadn't after last night. She hadn't really thought about any of this for her wedding to Mic. "And I've never really paid attention to superstitions."
"I guess there's not a lot we can do about it," Skates said practically, "so I guess your attendant in blue will have to do for the last part." She finished curling the last section of Mac's hair and ran her fingers through it to fluff out the curls. She got a hand mirror from the bathroom and handed it to Mac.
"It's beautiful," Mac said, her eyes tearing up unexpectedly. "You're pretty good at that."
"When I was a teen," she explained, "my friends and I would have sleepovers almost every week and we'd sit up to all hours, fixing each other's hair, putting on makeup. Didn't you ever do anything like that when you were a kid?" She was sorry she asked as soon as she saw the brief flash of pain in the other woman's eyes.
"I didn't really have a lot of friends growing up," Mac said simply. She managed a smile as she added, "I do have a fourteen-year-old sister. We do stuff like that when she visits. She is going to be so disappointed she missed this. She told me once she had this dream that she was flower girl at my wedding to Harm."
"Then I guess it's a good thing you're not going to have any flowers," Skates said with a laugh. "How much time to we have left?" She glanced at her watch, but was curious to see if Mac could do it again.
"Fourteen minutes," she replied with a knowing smile, having noticed Skates' gesture. She stood and gestured to the chair. "Sit. I'll fix your hair and then we'll be ready to go …. I think."
"Butterflies?" Skates asked.
"I don't think that quite covers it," Mac said, laughing nervously. "All I have to say is that I hope I don't wake up from this dream anytime soon."
-----
SICKBAY
"She once said she's a sucker for the dress whites," Harm related with a cough, looking down at his khaki uniform shirt. Tuna had searched the bag Mac had brought of Harm's things and pulled out the uniform and Doctor Reed had consented to disconnect the various monitors and the IV long enough for Harm to don his uniform and climb back into bed, which was only accomplished with Robert and Tuna standing on either side of Harm, ready to steady him. At least Reed had agreed to let the oxygen mask stay off at least through the ceremony and perhaps longer depending on how his breathing sounded. Harm was trying to limit his coughing, feeling the doctor's eyes on him with every spasm, but it took a lot more than simple willpower.
"That's what you get for being the size you are and a Commander in JAG to boot," Tuna pointed out. "Even if we could find a dress uniform to fit you among the other officers on the ship, you'd either end up with JAG shoulder boards which don't have your proper rank or a Commander's shoulder boards with a line officer's star. At least you're not out of uniform. And it's not like Mac has anything special to wear. She's going to be wearing her uniform, too."
"Uh, actually …. " Robert began as Father Gilly entered, accompanied by Captain Ingles. Robert and Tuna snapped to attention while Harm attempted to do the same, propped up in his bed.
"At ease," Ingles said. "Commander Rabb."
"Captain," Harm said with a nod.
"Father Gilly told me what's going on," Ingles said. "It's a bit unusual."
Harm masked his apprehension, hoping that Ingles wasn't about to deny permission for the ceremony to take place. Technically, he could do so. Nothing happened on the ship without the captain's permission. "Sir …." he began.
"Captain Pike has gone to find Colonel Mackenzie and Lieutenant Hawkes," Ingles continued, as if Harm hadn't spoken. "He offered to personally escort them back here."
"Commander Rabb," Reed said, brandishing his stethoscope, "I need to check your breathing." With an impatient sigh, Harm tolerated the brief examination. "Your lungs are sounding better. Just try to remember what I told you earlier. As soon as the ceremony is over, you will get some sleep. Now, if that requires administering a sedative, I will do that." Reed made a note in Harm's chart, then walked off.
"He put the kibosh on the whole reception thing that Robert and I were talking about," Tuna said quietly. "Although it really wouldn't have been much of one considering the food was going to come from the mess. But we got him to compromise. If you're up to it, you and your lovely bride will get a, um, nice wedding breakfast before you get shipped off to Portsmouth." He snickered, knowing the nice wasn't a term usually applied to food coming from the mess.
"Thanks, man," Harm said in the midst of another coughing spasm. He glanced around, but Doctor Reed wasn't in the room at the moment. "At least he's not throwing Mac out of here after the ceremony."
"And too bad you're not in any condition to, um, appreciate the Colonel's charms," Tuna joked. He glanced away at the hard look Harm gave him, only to discover that Ingles wore a similar expression. "Um, I apologize, Sir."
"Just be glad that the Colonel didn't hear you say that," Ingles replied with a perfectly straight face, although Harm thought there was a gleam in his eye as he said it.
Captain Pike stuck his head through the hatch. "Is everyone ready in here?" he asked.
"Commander?" Gilly asked, turning to Harm.
Harm took a deep breath and nodded. "Let's do this," he said, forcing down the nervousness in the pit of his stomach.
Pike turned around and nodded to someone behind him, then stepped into the room and took up position at the foot the bed beside Ingles, Robert and Reed, who had just returned from his office after shedding his lab coat. Tuna stood at the head of the bed on Harm's right side, Gilly in the same position on his left, his Bible clasped in his hands.
Skates stepped into the room, slowly walking towards the bed as if taking a real walk down the aisle, smiling at her fiancé. Harm's eyes widened slightly at her attire; he'd been expecting them to show up in their uniforms. What would Mac be wearing?
He could feel her presence before he lifted his eyes to the doorway as she stepped over the knee knocker and started towards the bed, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, her fingers turning white with the strain. Smiling nervously, she took up position between Skates and Gilly at the head of the bed, her eyes meeting Harm's.
"You look beautiful, Sarah," he whispered hoarsely.
Mac felt herself tearing up at his simple statement. "Not too bad yourself, flyboy," she replied, just as quietly.
"It's no dress whites," he countered.
She reached out and traced the outline of his gold wings and said a silent prayer that he'd come back and be able to retain his flight status. He wouldn't be the same if that was lost to him permanently. "As long as we get married before the fall, I'll see the whites then," she pointed out.
At the end of the bed, Reed cleared his throat. Everyone laughed a little. "I think the good doctor is trying to remind us to get moving with the ceremony so the Commander can get his rest," Gilly said with a grin.
"I take it the doctor's not Catholic," Mac said, quietly enough that only Gilly and Harm heard her. "There is no such thing as a short Catholic ceremony."
Both laughed for a moment before Harm's chuckle turned to a cough. As he leaned forward, trying to catch his breath, Mac rubbed soothing circles over his back. "Looks like you've got the 'in sickness and in health' part down," Tuna joked.
"Okay, that's enough," Harm said was he leaned back against the raised head of the bed. "Stop making me laugh."
"If we're all done joking," Gilly said, "are we ready?" Harm and Mac looked at each other for a long moment, then nodded slowly, Mac nibbling on her lower lip.
"In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit," Gilly began, crossing himself. The Catholics in the room followed suit, Harm stopping midway with a grimace when he inadvertently tugged too hard on his IV tubing. He glanced apologetically at the priest, who nodded that it was okay. "We are gathered here today in the sight of God and angels, and the presence of friends, to celebrate one of life's greatest moments, to give recognition to the worth and beauty of love, and to add our best wishes and blessings to the words which shall unite Harmon and Sarah in holy matrimony.
"Marriage is a most honorable estate, created and Instituted by God, signifying unto us the mystical union, which also exists between Christ and the Church; so too may this marriage be adorned by true and abiding love."
Harm reached up and brushed a falling tear from Mac cheek and she leaned into his palm, mouthing 'I love you'. Behind her, Skates blinked, trying to keep at bay her own threatening tears. She turned her head slightly and caught Robert's eye and received a reassuring smile, as if he were telling her that everything would be just fine. She nodded slightly and turned her attention back to the ceremony.
The priest continued, "Harmon and Sarah, life is given to each of us as individuals, and yet we must learn to live together. Loveis given to us by our family and friends. We learn to love by being loved. Learning to love and living together is one of life's greatest challenges and is the shared goal of a married life."
I think we've got the challenge part down right, Mac thought. She was under no illusion that they wouldn't have difficulties. Mic and Renee's continued presence just about guaranteed that. But for this moment, none of that seemed to matter. There were so many possibilities and she looked forward to being able to explore them.
"But a husband and wife should not confuse love of worldly measures for even if worldly success is found, only love will maintain a marriage. Mankind did not create love; love is created by God. The measure of true love is a love both freely given and freely accepted, just as God's love of us is unconditional and free," Gilly recited. "Today truly is a glorious day the Lord hath made - as today both of youare blessed with God's greatest of all gifts - the gift of abiding love and devotion between a man and a woman. All present here today - and those here in heart - wish both of you all the joy, happiness and success and the world has to offer.
"As you travel through life together, I caution you to remember that the true measure of success, the true avenue to joy and peace, is to be found within the love youhold in your hearts. I would ask that you hold the key to your heart very tightly.
"Within the Bible, nothing is of more importance than love. We are told the crystalline and beautiful truth: 'God is Love'. We are assured that 'Love conquers all'.It is love, which brings you here today, the union of two hearts and two spirits. As your lives continue to interweave as one pattern, remember that it was love that brought you here today, it is love that will make this a glorious union, and it is love which will cause this union to endure."
Harm had never really thought about it, but he hoped that Gilly was right, that love could conquer all. There had been so many obstacles in their path and there would be more to come. Something of his thoughts must have shown in his expression, because Mac shot him a quick questioning glance. He grinned at her, telling himself that none of that would matter today. Today was theirs.
Gilly motioned to Tuna, who opened a Bible he held, given to him earlier by Father Gilly, and read, "A reading from the Book of Solomon - Listen! My lover! Look! Here he comes, leaping across the mountains, bounding over the hills. My lover is like a gazelle or a young stag. Look! There he stands behind our wall, gazing through the windows, peering through the lattice. My lover spoke and said to me, 'Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, and come with me. See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone. Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land. The fig tree forms its early fruit; the blossoming vines spread their fragrance. Arise, come, my darling; my beautiful one, come with me.' My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places on the mountainside, show me your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely. My lover is mine and I am his; he browses among the lilies. This is the word of the Lord."
"Thanks be to God," everyone replied.
"The response is," Tuna continued, "'O blessed are those who fear the Lord and walk in his ways'."
"'O blessed are those who fear the Lord and walk in his ways'," the group repeated.
"O blessed are those who fear the Lord and walk in his ways!" Tuna read. "By the labor of your hands you shall eat. You will be happy and prosper."
He motioned and everyone dutifully repeated the response. "Your wife like a fruitful vine in the heart of your house," he said. "Your children like shoots of the olive around your table."
After the response was repeated again, he continued, "Indeed thus shall be blest all those who fear the Lord. May the Lord bless you from Zion all the days of your life!"
After the final response, Tuna passed the Bible to Robert, who continued, "A reading from the first letter of Paul to the Corinthians - If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. This is the word of the Lord."
"Thanks be to God."
Gilly opened his Bible to a bookmarked page and began, "The Lord be with you."
"And also with you."
He recited, "A reading from the holy Gospel according to Matthew."
"Glory to you, Lord."
Gilly read from the Bible, "'Haven't you read,' he replied, 'that at the beginning the Creator made them male and female,' and said, For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh' So they are no longer two, but one. Therefore what God has joined together, let man not separate'. This is the Gospel of the Lord."
"Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ."
Gilly closed his Bible and focused his attention on the couple in front of him. "Normally, this would be the point where I would say a few words about the bride and groom. Of course, I've only known the bride for a very short time and haven't seen the groom in a year and a half …. but that doesn't mean I have nothing to say. Sometimes, you can get as clear a picture about people by talking to their friends and I've managed to hear a few stories about you two from those gathered here."
"I guess I told Robert a little too much last night," Mac murmured, just loud enough that everyone heard her comment and laughed.
"Don't worry, they were all good stories and I heard a few from Tuna as well," Gilly assured her as the laughter died away. "People toss about words like 'fate' and 'destiny' and a lot would say that those words apply to a couple who met in a rose garden. But something else struck me when I heard some of the stories that you've told your friends. In the years that you two have known each other, you've been through many trials and there seems to be one commonality in all the stories – everything that you have been through, you've been through together. You've supported and bolstered each other during probably some of the toughest times of your lives, if the stories are to be believed. Sarah's presence here on the Henry today is a testament to that. In our reading from 1 Corinthians, Paul talks about how love protects and perseveres. Your relationship seems to be the epitome of that statement. Even when we don't recognize its presence, love is always there, sheltering and guiding us. It has lead you through all your trials and brought you here, to this moment. Harmon and Sarah, you have recognized this truth and have come here today to declare your love and solidify the commitment which you seem to have always shared. Please join your right hands as you declare your vows to each other."
Mac reached over and clasped Harm's hand in hers, careful not to pull it too far towards her, conscious of the IV tubing which had already been yanked on once. She was surprised to discover that his hand was trembling as much as hers. They only had eyes for each other as Gilly continued, "Harmon, do you take Sarah to be your wife? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, for richer and poorer, in sickness and health, forsaking all others and holding only to her forevermore?"
"I do," he replied firmly, granting her a dazzling smile.
"Sarah, do you take Harmon to be your husband? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, for richer and poorer, in sickness and health, forsaking all others and holding only to him forevermore?" Gilly recited.
"I do," she replied, surprised that her voice didn't tremble as her fingers were. Her tone matched the firmness and certainty she heard in Harm's tone. They were doing the right thing, she told herself.
"May I have the rings, please?" Gilly asked. Skates set the rings on top of the priest's Bible, smiling warmly in response to a questioning glance from Harm, who was learning of the rings for the first time. He'd been so anxious to marry Mac that he'd never stopped to consider rings, aside from the joke about using his Academy ring as an engagement ring. "Wedding rings are an outward and visible sign of an inward spiritual grace, signifying to all the uniting of this man and this woman in marriage. These rings are a symbol of the unbroken circle of love. Love freely given has no beginning and no end, no giver and no receiver for each is the giver and each is the receiver. May these rings always remind you of the vows you have taken." He held the open Bible out to Harm. "Take this ring and place it on the third finger of Sarah's left hand as you repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen."
Harm took the ring and slowly slid the ring onto Mac's finger, repeating the vow. After he slipped the ring into place, he squeezed her fingers, lifting her hand to his lips for a quick kiss.
"Now, Sarah," Gilly said, turning to her, "take this ring and place it on the third finger of Harmon's left hand as you repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen."
She slipped the ring on his finger – it fit him perfectly – as she repeated the words. When she was finished, she echoed his actions by lifting his hand to her lips. Their hands remained clasped as Gilly continued.
"Harmon and Sarah, as the two of you come into this marriage uniting you as husband and wife, and as you this day affirm your faith and love for one another, I would ask that you always remember to cherish each other as special and unique individuals, that you respect the thoughts, ideas and suggestions of one another. Be able to forgive, do not hold grudges, and live each day that you may share it together - as from this day forward you shall be each other's home, comfort and refuge, your marriage strengthened by your love and respect.
"Now bow your heads and pray for God's blessing on your union - Dear heavenly Father, our hearts are filled with great happiness on Harmon and Sarah's wedding day, as they come before You pledging their hearts and lives to one another. Grant that they may be ever true and loving, living together is such a way as to never bring shame or heartbreak into their marriage. Temper their hearts with kindness and understanding, rid them of all pretense of jealousy. Help them to remember to be each other's sweetheart, helpmate, friend and guide, so that together they may meet the cares and problems of life more bravely. And with the passage of time, may the home they are creating today, truly be a place of love and harmony, where your spirit is ever present. Bless this union we pray, and walk beside Harmon and Sarah throughout all their lives together. We ask these things in Jesus name. Amen."
"Amen," everyone echoed as they lifted their gazes.
"Harmon and Sarah, in so much as the two of you have agreed to live together in Matrimony, have promised your love for each other by these vows, the giving of these rings and the joining of your hands, I now declare you to be husband and wife in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen," the priest intoned, crossing himself. The other Catholics followed suit. "May the Lord bless you and keep you. May the Lord make his face shine upon you, and be gracious unto you. May the Lord lift up his countenance unto you, and give you peace." There seemed to be a pause before Gilly added, "You may now kiss your bride."
Mac leaned down and brushed her lips against Harm's, grasping his shoulders to steady herself. She was so excited and nervous that she wasn't entirely sure how she'd managed to stand upright through the ceremony.
Harm wanted to wrap his arms around her, but couldn't reach without yanking on the IV again, so he settled for covering her hands with his as he deepened the kiss as much as he dared in front of their audience, gently parting her lips with his tongue. They finally broke apart with a laugh as Robert and Tuna exclaimed, "Hoorah."
"May I present for the first time Commander and Mrs. Harmon Rabb, Jr. Sorry there's no Arch, ma'am," Tuna added, "but 'Go Navy!'"
"You do realize that Harm just married into the Corps, don't you?" Mac teased. The rest of the groups wore mock expressions of horror, except Harm, who tried but couldn't seem to wipe the smile off his face. Mac laughed as Harm wrapped his free left arm around her waist and pulled her against his side.
After a few moments of congratulations and good natured teasing about the hasty wedding – Tuna even threw in a joke about how many months it would be before the bride delivered her first child, causing Mac to blush profusely even as she insisted that she wasn't yet pregnant – Doctor Reed said, raising his voice to be heard over the din, "I hate to break this up, but Commander Rabb is supposed to rest now and I'm sure the Colonel could use some herself. So let's please wrap this up quickly."
"Master of all ye survey," Tuna joked as he shook Harm's hand and kissed Mac's cheek. "We will be back tomorrow morning with your wedding breakfast and maybe we'll see if we can put together an Arch on the deck before you leave for Portsmouth."
Gilly picked up a clipboard with the wedding certificate on it. He'd already filled in the names and date, now he passed it around to Tuna, Skates, Harm and Mac to sign before affixing his own signature as the officiator. He handed the completed certificate to Mac, who held it gingerly, trying not to crumble or muse it.
"Captain," a young man wearing ensign's bars called out, stepping up to Ingles and handing him a videotape.
"Thank you, Ensign," he replied before handing the tape to Mac. "Ensign Richards, our PAO, stood in the doorway and taped the ceremony."
"Thank you, Captain," Mac replied, Harm echoing her after a moment.
"Captain Pike, let me know as soon as you have something on that matter we discussed," Ingles said. Shortly before the ceremony, word had come that the wreckage of Navy 214 had been found. Crews were retrieving as much as they could and transporting it to Norfolk so the engineers could figure out what had caused the massive systems failure which had sent the Tomcat into the water.
"Yes, Sir," Pike said with a nod. Ingles turned on his heel and left sickbay. "Hammer, Colonel, congratulations. I'm glad everything worked out for you after Hammer returned to JAG."
"Thank you, Sir," Mac replied, hesitancy just barely detectible in her voice. If they really had worked things out after Harm had returned to JAG, they wouldn't be here today. Harm noticed and tightened his arm around her waist.
"It was a beautiful ceremony," Skates said, wiping her eyes as she leaned over to kiss Harm's cheek and hugged Mac.
"Thank you, Skates," Mac said gratefully as she returned the hug, blinking back her own tears. "You've been a huge help."
"Just remember to let us know when you have another wedding," Skates requested as she took Robert's hand.
"You'll be among the first to know," Harm promised. "And we're looking forward to your wedding."
Skates laughed as she and Robert walked out, "I guess you'll be bringing Mac after all."
As Harm laughed, Mac shot him a questioning glance. "Last night, after I called you, I was talking to Tuna and Skates," Harm explained. "When they heard that you weren't, uh, getting married, Tuna suggested I get you to accompany me to Skates' wedding as my date."
"Well, since we're married," Mac replied, "I suppose we should try the dating thing, just to say that we did date, even if it was after the fact."
"I've never thought of that," Harm said thoughtfully, pausing to get past a cough, "going on a date with my wife."
"Which part did you not think of – the date part or the wife part?" Mac teased, just a hint of seriousness behind the question.
"I love you, Sarah Mackenzie," he said, tracing a circle on her hip with his finger. She looked at him and smiled softly, her eyes burning bright.
"That's Sarah Rabb," she pointed out, "at least in private for now."
"Okay," he conceded. "I love you, Sarah Rabb." He stretched up to kiss her, only to be interrupted by a discreet cough.
"Out of that uniform, Commander," Reed reminded him firmly, although a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, "and then bed."
Harm groused as a corpsman disconnected the IV tubing so he could remove his shirt, while Mac patted his hand. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she said. "My uniform is still in Skates' cabin and I should return the dress to her roommate."
He managed a grin at the thought of her peeling out of the simple dress she wore, disappointed that he wouldn't be able to do it for her. Mac sensed the direction of his thoughts and returned his grin. "Hold that thought for later," she whispered against his ear.
She squeezed his hand, then walked out, watching him over her shoulder with a smile. Rabb, you are a lucky man, he thought.
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To be continued…
