A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I REALLY appreciate all the feedback.
Summary: Little AJ's finally turning five. . . here's my take on a possible H/M reaction. Please R&R! It's my first fanfic.
Disclaimer: Once again, if I owned them, do you think I'd be working for a living?
Spoilers: "Yeah, Baby" and any other episodes up through "Good Intentions".
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Wednesday; 0031 Zulu; Mac's Apartment; Georgetown, Washington D.C.
Standing in the hallway outside Mac's apartment, Harm raised his hand to knock again. *Where on earth is she?* He had been waiting for her to answer the door for the last five minutes and was starting to worry. Just as he was reaching for his cell phone, the deadbolt clicked open and the door swung inward.
"Sorry," Mac apologized. "I was right in the middle of something. Come on in." She took a step backwards as he moved past her into the living room. Taking a closer look, Harm saw that her hair was pulled back in a bandana and that she held a feather duster in one hand. She also had a smudge of dirt on her nose.
"What were you doing?" he asked with a laugh, leaning over to clean her nose with his free hand.
"A little spring housecleaning." Closing the door behind them, she took the paper bag from him and set it on the table before heading into the kitchen. "So what's for dinner?"
"Takeout Lebanese," he called, removing his jacket and draping it over the arm of a chair. Next to the window, behind the couch, stood a footstool and vacuum cleaner. "Isn't it a bit late for spring cleaning? July is technically summertime, you know."
"This coming from the world's biggest clean freak? Puh-lease," she replied as she returned with two water glasses and a tray of dishes, silverware and napkins.
"I didn't hear the vacuum running."
"That's only because the hose doesn't reach as high as the molding above the window."
"Ah, hence the feather duster." Harm smiled in understanding as he joined her at the table.
"Yeah, well, it needed to be done."
"What's the occasion? Don't tell me you invited me over to watch you clean." Things between them had been somewhat strained in the aftermath of Saturday night's squabble outside his building. Earlier today she had come into his office and asked him if he was free for dinner. One thing had led to another and before he knew what had happened, he'd been roped into bringing the food. Chuckling at the memory, he hadn't realized until afterward just how well she'd wrapped him around her finger.
Mac pulled a carton from the bag and opened it. "I had to do something to keep myself busy while I waited for you," she said nonchalantly, as if that explained everything. Harm raised a questioning eyebrow as he spooned tabouli onto his plate.
"And?"
"And. . . I was expecting to get my period yesterday." She shrugged without looking at him. "I didn't."
Staring at her, Harm's fork paused halfway to his mouth.
"Come again?"
Mac lifted her gaze to his. "My period is late." The expression on his face had her stifling a smile. While there had been times in their past that she'd been exasperated by his overt anxiety around their relationship, tonight she found it oddly endearing. *For a man who has punched out of three different aircraft, played tag with a dirty nuclear warhead, and shot off an automatic weapon in the middle of court proceedings, you certainly do scare easily,* she thought.
"Are you sure?" he asked finally, finding his voice.
"Harm, I've been regular since I was fourteen. Trust me, it's late."
"So what do we do now?"
"Well," she paused to take a sip of water, "I stopped on the way home and picked up a pregnancy test."
He gazed at her intently. "Have you taken it yet?" The suspense was killing him.
"No, that was why I was cleaning," she admitted. "I thought you would want to be here. The busywork helped to keep me occupied while I waited." As her words registered, Harm closed his eyes momentarily before he looked at her.
"You're right, I *did* want to be with you when you took the test. Thanks for waiting," he told her softly, taking her hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Do you want to do it now, or would you rather put it off until after dinner?"
"Can we do it now? I don't think I could eat anything if I wanted to."
Harm noticed for the first time that Mac hadn't touched any of the food, other than to pull the cartons out of the bag. How could he have missed that? He nodded. "Let's go for it. Where's the test?"
"In the bathroom. It's the kind where you have to pee on the stick," Mac explained as they both rose. "Why don't you stay here? The directions say that you have to wait at least five minutes before it will give clear results."
"You peeked," he teased.
"Well, I wanted to see how it worked. I'll be right back." Flashing him a shaky smile, she disappeared into the bedroom. Too keyed up to sit, Harm began to pace back and forth next to the front door. After what felt like an eternity Mac emerged from the bedroom carrying a small white stick, which he presumed to be the test. She shook her head at his unvoiced question.
"Not yet -- three more minutes."
Sitting down next to each other on the couch, Mac set the test on the coffee table in front of them. For a moment they both stared at it anxiously.
"This is it," Harm stated quietly as he reached for her hand. "No going back. You nervous?"
"Terrified. You?"
"About the same." His fingers entwined with hers. "But I'm excited too. How much longer?"
"One minute, fifty-eight seconds," came the automatic answer.
"Even after knowing you for more than eight years, I *still* have no clue how you do that." They both laughed, the levity helping to ease the tension in the room.
"And don't expect me to tell you anytime soon," Mac replied. They lapsed back into silence for another few minutes. Wishing that she'd had the foresight to turn on some music, anything to break the stillness, Mac's grip on Harm tightened as the remaining time passed. Finally, she reached for the test. Before she could read the results, however, Harm turned her head with his free hand and gave her a quick kiss.
"For good luck," he told her softly.
Inhaling deeply, Mac returned her gaze to the window on the testing stick. For a moment she simply stared at the wand in her fingers.
"There are two lines," she whispered. "Two lines."
Harm stared at her blankly. "What does that mean, exactly?" he prompted. Slowly, Mac brought her gaze up to meet his, her eyes filling.
"Two lines means it's. . . positive."
The vision of his face before her wavered as her tears spilled over, but it was obvious the moment that comprehension dawned. Harm's eyes went wide and his grip on her hand tightened considerably. Incredible warmth flooded through Mac's chest as she watched him absorb the significance of what she had just said.
"Positive?" he repeated in disbelief.
Nodding slightly, Mac smiled helplessly as her eyes remained locked on his. "Positive," she confirmed. "We're going to have a baby."
Unexpectedly overwhelmed by his own emotions, Harm pulled her into his arms and embraced her tightly. *I can't believe this is happening,* he thought. *Sarah MacKenzie is carrying my child. Mac is carrying MY child. No, OUR child.* He squeezed his eyes shut against the onslaught, but a lone tear escaped and ran stealthily down his cheek.
They held each other close for several long minutes. Finally pulling back, Mac was rendered momentarily speechless under Harm's loving gaze.
"Don't cry, Flyboy," she laughed softly, reaching up to wipe the moisture from beneath his eyes. "Are you all right?"
He returned the gesture, thumbs lingering gently along her cheekbones. The happiness in her eyes was mirrored in his heart. "Actually, Sarah," Harm whispered hoarsely, "I can honestly say I've never been better."
"I know the feeling."
Falling once again into silence, they sat for a while longer simply enjoying the poignancy of the moment and the comfort of each other's presence. It wasn't long, however, before Mac's stomach started to growl audibly. The spell was broken.
"Hungry, Marine?" Harm asked with a grin.
"Well, I haven't had anything to eat since lunch. . ."
"I take it that's a yes?"
Letting him pull her up off the sofa, Mac flashed him a broad smile. "That's a 'hell yes'. I've got first dibs on the baba ganoush, Sailor." Their mutual laughter echoed gaily through the apartment as they walked with joined hands over to the table.
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To be continued. . .
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Summary: Little AJ's finally turning five. . . here's my take on a possible H/M reaction. Please R&R! It's my first fanfic.
Disclaimer: Once again, if I owned them, do you think I'd be working for a living?
Spoilers: "Yeah, Baby" and any other episodes up through "Good Intentions".
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
Wednesday; 0031 Zulu; Mac's Apartment; Georgetown, Washington D.C.
Standing in the hallway outside Mac's apartment, Harm raised his hand to knock again. *Where on earth is she?* He had been waiting for her to answer the door for the last five minutes and was starting to worry. Just as he was reaching for his cell phone, the deadbolt clicked open and the door swung inward.
"Sorry," Mac apologized. "I was right in the middle of something. Come on in." She took a step backwards as he moved past her into the living room. Taking a closer look, Harm saw that her hair was pulled back in a bandana and that she held a feather duster in one hand. She also had a smudge of dirt on her nose.
"What were you doing?" he asked with a laugh, leaning over to clean her nose with his free hand.
"A little spring housecleaning." Closing the door behind them, she took the paper bag from him and set it on the table before heading into the kitchen. "So what's for dinner?"
"Takeout Lebanese," he called, removing his jacket and draping it over the arm of a chair. Next to the window, behind the couch, stood a footstool and vacuum cleaner. "Isn't it a bit late for spring cleaning? July is technically summertime, you know."
"This coming from the world's biggest clean freak? Puh-lease," she replied as she returned with two water glasses and a tray of dishes, silverware and napkins.
"I didn't hear the vacuum running."
"That's only because the hose doesn't reach as high as the molding above the window."
"Ah, hence the feather duster." Harm smiled in understanding as he joined her at the table.
"Yeah, well, it needed to be done."
"What's the occasion? Don't tell me you invited me over to watch you clean." Things between them had been somewhat strained in the aftermath of Saturday night's squabble outside his building. Earlier today she had come into his office and asked him if he was free for dinner. One thing had led to another and before he knew what had happened, he'd been roped into bringing the food. Chuckling at the memory, he hadn't realized until afterward just how well she'd wrapped him around her finger.
Mac pulled a carton from the bag and opened it. "I had to do something to keep myself busy while I waited for you," she said nonchalantly, as if that explained everything. Harm raised a questioning eyebrow as he spooned tabouli onto his plate.
"And?"
"And. . . I was expecting to get my period yesterday." She shrugged without looking at him. "I didn't."
Staring at her, Harm's fork paused halfway to his mouth.
"Come again?"
Mac lifted her gaze to his. "My period is late." The expression on his face had her stifling a smile. While there had been times in their past that she'd been exasperated by his overt anxiety around their relationship, tonight she found it oddly endearing. *For a man who has punched out of three different aircraft, played tag with a dirty nuclear warhead, and shot off an automatic weapon in the middle of court proceedings, you certainly do scare easily,* she thought.
"Are you sure?" he asked finally, finding his voice.
"Harm, I've been regular since I was fourteen. Trust me, it's late."
"So what do we do now?"
"Well," she paused to take a sip of water, "I stopped on the way home and picked up a pregnancy test."
He gazed at her intently. "Have you taken it yet?" The suspense was killing him.
"No, that was why I was cleaning," she admitted. "I thought you would want to be here. The busywork helped to keep me occupied while I waited." As her words registered, Harm closed his eyes momentarily before he looked at her.
"You're right, I *did* want to be with you when you took the test. Thanks for waiting," he told her softly, taking her hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Do you want to do it now, or would you rather put it off until after dinner?"
"Can we do it now? I don't think I could eat anything if I wanted to."
Harm noticed for the first time that Mac hadn't touched any of the food, other than to pull the cartons out of the bag. How could he have missed that? He nodded. "Let's go for it. Where's the test?"
"In the bathroom. It's the kind where you have to pee on the stick," Mac explained as they both rose. "Why don't you stay here? The directions say that you have to wait at least five minutes before it will give clear results."
"You peeked," he teased.
"Well, I wanted to see how it worked. I'll be right back." Flashing him a shaky smile, she disappeared into the bedroom. Too keyed up to sit, Harm began to pace back and forth next to the front door. After what felt like an eternity Mac emerged from the bedroom carrying a small white stick, which he presumed to be the test. She shook her head at his unvoiced question.
"Not yet -- three more minutes."
Sitting down next to each other on the couch, Mac set the test on the coffee table in front of them. For a moment they both stared at it anxiously.
"This is it," Harm stated quietly as he reached for her hand. "No going back. You nervous?"
"Terrified. You?"
"About the same." His fingers entwined with hers. "But I'm excited too. How much longer?"
"One minute, fifty-eight seconds," came the automatic answer.
"Even after knowing you for more than eight years, I *still* have no clue how you do that." They both laughed, the levity helping to ease the tension in the room.
"And don't expect me to tell you anytime soon," Mac replied. They lapsed back into silence for another few minutes. Wishing that she'd had the foresight to turn on some music, anything to break the stillness, Mac's grip on Harm tightened as the remaining time passed. Finally, she reached for the test. Before she could read the results, however, Harm turned her head with his free hand and gave her a quick kiss.
"For good luck," he told her softly.
Inhaling deeply, Mac returned her gaze to the window on the testing stick. For a moment she simply stared at the wand in her fingers.
"There are two lines," she whispered. "Two lines."
Harm stared at her blankly. "What does that mean, exactly?" he prompted. Slowly, Mac brought her gaze up to meet his, her eyes filling.
"Two lines means it's. . . positive."
The vision of his face before her wavered as her tears spilled over, but it was obvious the moment that comprehension dawned. Harm's eyes went wide and his grip on her hand tightened considerably. Incredible warmth flooded through Mac's chest as she watched him absorb the significance of what she had just said.
"Positive?" he repeated in disbelief.
Nodding slightly, Mac smiled helplessly as her eyes remained locked on his. "Positive," she confirmed. "We're going to have a baby."
Unexpectedly overwhelmed by his own emotions, Harm pulled her into his arms and embraced her tightly. *I can't believe this is happening,* he thought. *Sarah MacKenzie is carrying my child. Mac is carrying MY child. No, OUR child.* He squeezed his eyes shut against the onslaught, but a lone tear escaped and ran stealthily down his cheek.
They held each other close for several long minutes. Finally pulling back, Mac was rendered momentarily speechless under Harm's loving gaze.
"Don't cry, Flyboy," she laughed softly, reaching up to wipe the moisture from beneath his eyes. "Are you all right?"
He returned the gesture, thumbs lingering gently along her cheekbones. The happiness in her eyes was mirrored in his heart. "Actually, Sarah," Harm whispered hoarsely, "I can honestly say I've never been better."
"I know the feeling."
Falling once again into silence, they sat for a while longer simply enjoying the poignancy of the moment and the comfort of each other's presence. It wasn't long, however, before Mac's stomach started to growl audibly. The spell was broken.
"Hungry, Marine?" Harm asked with a grin.
"Well, I haven't had anything to eat since lunch. . ."
"I take it that's a yes?"
Letting him pull her up off the sofa, Mac flashed him a broad smile. "That's a 'hell yes'. I've got first dibs on the baba ganoush, Sailor." Their mutual laughter echoed gaily through the apartment as they walked with joined hands over to the table.
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To be continued. . .
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