Title: Baseball

Author: Catch

Disclaimer: Insert standard issue disclaimer here

Spoilers: Nothing specific, but it's all fair game

AN:  This is what happens when the only thing you watch on TV are baseball games and JAG.  I'm pretty sure Harm wouldn't act like this, so I'm taking a little creative license.  If you like this story, watch the movie Bull Durham.  It'll get you thinking about baseball and life.  "A good friend of mine used to say, 'This is a very simple game. You throw the ball, you catch the ball, you hit the ball. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, sometimes it rains.' Think about that for a while."

Baseball

2213 Zulu

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Mac walked to her office after a very stressful day in court hoping that she could just gather her things and get home ASAP.  When she opened, the door, however, she was surprised to see a lone baseball sitting on her desk.   'Who the hell could have put that there?' she thought.  She picked up the ball to see a note written on it in very familiar handwriting.

Mac-

Meet me at the diamond in Rock Creek Park at 1800.

Harm

She read the note over, trying to figure out the meaning behind.  Why would Harm want to meet her at a baseball diamond?  As far as she knew, Harm didn't even watch baseball, let alone play.  She had to admit this was odd, even for him.  He would be waiting though and by her calculations, she had 42 minutes to get there.

1756

Rock Creek Park

Georgetown

Mac had just enough time to go home and change into a pair of khaki shorts and a tank top before going to the park to meet Harm.  As she walked down the hill to the diamond, she saw Harm dressed in a pair of athletic shorts, a Navy T-shirt, and a backwards baseball cap on the pitcher's mound hurling balls from a bucket sitting next to him towards the backstop behind home plate.  The moment she stepped inside the fence and onto the field, Harm spoke, but continued throwing the baseballs.

"So I was listening to a baseball game on the radio the other day and I started thinking," he began, "if I were a baseball player what position would I play?"

Mac, still trying to find the meaning behind this conversation, decided to play along.  "Oh yeah?  Well, what did you come up with?"

"The aviator in me said shortstop.  Everybody knows their name and they make all the spectacular plays.   They get to live in the limelight.  But you can only do that for so long before you get burned out, so I didn't think that would work."

"Makes sense," Mac acknowledged.

"Then the lawyer in me said catcher.  They get to call all the pitches and see everything that goes on.  They've got the most control of any guy on the field, but they get the crap beat out of them everyday and don't get any credit for it.  That wears on a guy after awhile.

"But then another part of me spoke up and said pitcher.  The more I thought about, the more it makes sense.  He's got the easy job.  All he does is go out to the mound and throw the ball where the guy calling it wants it.  He doesn't have to think; he just throws."

"So, who's calling the pitches for you, Harm?" Mac probed.

"It used to be my head, but he thought about things way too much.  He would always try to fool the batter, but would end up confusing the hell out of me too.  So I decided I needed someone new behind the plate."

"And who would that be?"

"My heart."

"Your heart?" Mac asked, surprised.

"Yeah, he should have been playing all along.  You see, my head always call the change-ups and sliders; he was always trying to get the out the fancy way.  Always looking for the strike-out.  Now my heart…my heart doesn't mess around.  He gets back there and goes right at the hitter.  Nothing but fastballs.  He's not afraid to challenge them.  He expects them to hit it and let's the other guys do their job and take care of it.  He doesn't need total control.  He knows it's okay to let go."

Harm picked up the final ball in the bucket heaved it into the backstop at a force unmatched by any of the previous pitches.  The loud crash of the chain-link fence paralleled the loud crash felt in Mac's heart.  She knew he had chosen his words carefully, and the meaning was not lost on her.  But was he really ready to let go.  To her there was only one way to find out.

"Harm," she muttered, looking into the ground, "when you said another part of you wanted to be a pitcher, which part of you was that?"

Harm, still standing on the pitcher's mound, slowly walked over to where she was standing near the dugout.  She still wasn't looking at him; all her attention was focused on the ball in her hands, the ball he had left for her earlier that day.  He took the ball from her and tossed it aside, letting it rest on the infield grass, and took both of her hands in his.  Yet, she still wouldn't look at him.  Finally, he gently cupped her face in his hands and eased her head up, until both of their eyes were locked onto each other. 

"The part of me that loves you," he whispered. 

Mac quickly opened her mouth to speak, but she was immediately silenced by Harm's finger on her lips.  "Shhh, don't talk.  Just be, Sarah, just be."   His face slowly inched towards her own, until their lips finally touched.  This kiss was different than the others they had shared.  It was full of promise.  His promise that he was ready to finally let go of all that had held them back and her promise that she would be there to guide him along the way.  When their lips parted, a single tear had escaped from Mac's eye and was resting on her cheek.  With his thumb, Harm gently wiped it away and rested his forehead against hers. 

"I've always loved you, Mac, and I'm sorry I never told you.  In the courtroom and in the air, I do things on impulse, without thinking, but for some reason, I tried to rationalize everything out with you.  I needed to realize that I didn't need to do that anymore.  I can listen to my heart know and I really like what it's telling me."

A small smile crept over Mac's face and she chuckled to herself.

"What's so funny, Mac?"

"For 7 years I've been waiting for you to come to this realization and a baseball game is what did it?"

"Yep."

"Wow, must have been some game.  Who was playing anyway?"

"The Cubs and the Cardinals."

"Yeah?  Who won?"

"We did, Mac.  We did."

And there you have it.  Another twisted fanfic from my brain.  R&R please.  Feedback is what keeps me going.