"There"

I disclaim. Just a girl in a town whom you really need not worry about.

This is just a really simple piece that popped in my head when I woke up this morning. Not too detail-oriented, but it was thought-provoking, to myself at least, LOL. I didn't edit it; didn't worry about fixing it up. I just had to write it to get it outta my head.

Spoilers: Starts after A Tangled Webb.. so anything is possible.

Setting: Paraguay

Mac's POV

Harm's laying with his eyes closed, propped up against a tree. He looks bruised... battered. And why shouldn't he? We just, miraculously, might I add, survived a plane crash with only minor injuries. How we end up so lucky, time after time, I just don't know.

He looks... peaceful. Just to be alive, is my guess, but I can't really say I feel the same. It's so amazing how sometimes he can just pop out of the shadows to save me... whenever I need him. He's just suddenly... there. Physically, at least. Emotionally, we're never quite on level ground. I've always told myself, it will happen when and if it's right. Someday. Someday we'll get there. But sitting here in the rainforest of all places has increased the span of my perception. Why have I never stopped to ask myself - Where is "there"? When is it? The point in my life in which I can look around and find myself surrounded by a husband and kids? When I finally have a ring on my finger from the right man? Or maybe is it simply when Harm and I can finally come foreward and admit our feelings for each other? Yes.. yes, I like that last one. I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror and know that my flyboy loves me, as I love him.

We've been together without being "together" for what? 7 years? And all we've encountered have been the wrong times and in some cases, the wrong people. But I still hold on to my dreams- why?

"Must be some heavy thinking there, Marine."

My eyes fly open. He's awake and his blue eyes are attempting to gaze into mine, despite the distance between us.

"And I don't even get offered money for my thoughts," I say, trying to think up something half-way clever.

"Sorry, no can do, but I am a curious man."

"Just wondering when the Admiral is going to be here searching for his two UA officers," I smirk.

"You mean one officer."

I raise an eyebrow at that. "What? You mean I'm not at JAG anymore. I guess a lot happened while I was gone."

"No, you are. I'm not."

Years have passed and he still know how to shock me.

"You quit?"

"I prefer to think of it as having to leave to be able to complete my mission."

"You quit."

"Yes. And I'd do it again. Mac?"

Sensing cautious ground, I reply slowly. "Yes?"

"I knew the mission was dangerous. I could *sense* it. Maybe it's like one of your ESP things, I don't know. And then I had a nightmare and I knew I could not sit still any longer. You were in danger, and well that just doesn't fly in my book."

Wow. I mentioned the shock value earlier, didn't I? But let me not neglect that willful blue-eyed stare.

"Harm, I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything." He stops and pauses. "There'll be enough to say later."

I nod silently and he closes his eyes, just to open them a minute later.

"Mac. Do you remember the last time we were camped out like this?"

"Of course." I pause, wondering where he's going with this. "Don't tell me you need body heat, Flyboy. I'm sweating."

He smirks. "A little company over here would do."

There is absolutely no turning him down. I walk over to him and settle against the tree beside him. He puts an arm around me and I put my head against his chest. It's a nice comfortable feeling; his body... skin, against mine.

Just when I think he has dozed off, he speaks.

"You know Marine, when we get home, I'm going to buy you a Beltway burger."

I smile, remembering a time when he accused me of consuming too many of said burgers. "Maybe, *Stick-boy*, we should compromise. Chinese instead?"

"Even better. My place or yours?"

I look up at him and find his eyes open, awaiting my answer.

"I don't know," I pause. "We may have to do it twice."

He smirks and we both lean back once again. His other arm creeps around me until I am nestled into him, enclosed between his arms. I can feel his smile, though I can't see it and can imagine that spark of amusement in his eyes.

"Exactly what I was going to say."

Clay once told me that I already had my good man. Lack of consistency, of flat-out statements, of sweet nothings between Harm and I, made me doubt him. Maybe he was right. Maybe I was wrong.

Maybe my flyboy and I have been "there" all along.