Disclaimer: I don't own JAG. I don't own a Jag, either, although I asked for both last Christmas.

A/N: My little sister writes fanfiction, and she pushed me into doing it, too. I never understood why she was so ecstatic over reviews until I started getting them myself. One good review can make your whole week better. A huge heartfelt thank you to everyone who's ever reviewed anything they read and liked; it really does make a difference!

            I'm drumming my fingers on the counter, desperate for a cup of coffee. The coffeemaker, seeming to sense my impatience, is moving slower than traffic on the Beltway at rush hour. The door opens behind me and Harm comes in, obviously looking for a caffeine fix of his own.

            "Morning," I say, and he stifles a yawn. I can't help but laugh at him. His uniform is rumpled, his tie is crooked, and he looks dead on his feet.

            "Harm, you look like you haven't slept in a week."

            "I was up all night working on that brief the admiral asked me for."

            "The one he wanted finished yesterday?"

            He shrugs, flashing me that gorgeous grin. "Maybe."

            I shake my head and reach out to straighten his tie. "Coffee'll be ready any time now."

            He gives me a quick once-over. "You look great."

            "Flattery will get you no coffee." I'm lying through my teeth. Flattery will get him anything he wants.

            Harm gives me a devious look, and before I can ask what he's up to, he leans over my shoulder and wraps his arms around me, pressing a hand to my abdomen.

            "She's so mean to me," he says, smiling broadly. I'm confused and a little afraid for his sanity.

            "You finally go off the deep end, flyboy?"

            "Hey," he argues, still grinning. "I'm just giving the kid a heads up. So she knows this is normal behavior for us."

            My breath catches in my throat as our conversation last week outside headquarters comes back to me for the hundredth time. We agreed to go halves on a kid. I've never wished for five years to go by so fast.

            "She's got five years to get used to it," I reply, resting my hand over his. My skin tingles through my uniform, and I can feel the warmth of his large hand on my stomach. He rubs his thumb back and forth, and I can't help leaning back against him.

            "Your mom drives me crazy sometimes," he elaborates, looking at me out of the corner of his eye as he continues talking. "But for the most part she puts up with me."

            "Just be thankful your daddy's got that great smile," I tell our imaginary child, indulging in Harm's insanity. "Otherwise I'd have killed him years ago, and then where would you be?"

            Harm chuckles, and after a moment I join in. I notice that the coffee's done and we're momentarily diverted, grabbing mugs and sugar to begin the ritual of caffeine intake that will keep us going through the rest of the day. He hands me my mug as I put the coffee pot back in its place, and a noise behind me makes me look up. There isn't anyone there, and I decide it's my lack of caffeine that's making me hallucinate. If there had been someone there, they certainly would have come in for some coffee. Everyone in this office is addicted.

            "See you in court?"

            Harm nods. "1500 hours," he replies, and stops just before the door. "My girls," he says with an indulgent grin, and I can feel a flush break over my cheeks.

            "Who says it's a girl?" I demand, covering for my embarrassment.

            "Daddies know these things."