A/n- this is my first try at a JAG fanfic. I think the subject is more than argumentative, and I welcome that with open arms. I, however, will not like to receive hate mail on the matter. Please, if it is a flame, back up your point, but the fact of the matter is, I'm writing this fic, and there is nothing you can do to stop that.

Also, for the record, I'm a big Harm/Mac fan, almost as much as I am forbidden love fanatic, so, my point is, this isn't a plain, Harm/Mac shipper, but don't worry, give it time. wink

Summary- Harm and Mac are brought together in Mac's time of need. She must open up about the past, present, and her feelings before they can ever be together again.

Spoilers/Season- Return/Season 5 w/o Mic/Mac together.

Categories- AU/Angst/Romance

Rating- PG-13

Warning- some language not appropriate for all ages

Pairing- Mac/other, Mac/Harm

Disclaimer- I do not own JAG, I know, I'm upset to. I do, sadly, own Brain McIntyre and any other characters that do not appear in the series JAG.

More Than a Marine

Harm,

I cannot tell you, Cmdr. Rabb, that what I'm doing is the right thing. The fact of the matter is: I'm doing it. I'm taking a chance on somebody, because someone wouldn't take a chance on me. I want you to know, I will always care, but I can't promise to always love you like I did. Don't you see, didn't you see that I would have given up the world for you? Harm, wither or not you come, that is up to you. I just want you to know, I would die to have you there. I'm happy, and a time ago, that would have meant something to you. If this relationship turns into strictly professional, who am I kidding, that's what its always been, right? I mean, we were never more, never could be. If I happen to pass you, and I don't receive a single 'hello' or wave, I will understand. I will try harder than hell to get past the fact, and move on with my life, move on with him.

Sincerely,

Mac

Mac turns to her left, smiling a smile that had been missing for quite some time. The two little words rolled off her tongue like an art as she lit up the small; heavy packed room. Everyone was here, everyone but him. The one that was so protestant to the whole ordeal, of course decided it was against his beliefs to adjoin such "nonsense". But it was her "nonsense" and she wasn't, under any circumstances let him ruin it.

The preacher looked at the two, prepped up his nose in an orderly fashion and said the six words she had been waiting for. The blessing was simple but graceful as it filled the room until the more than magnificent kiss replaced it. Holding on to the moment, her body felt as if it was lifting from the ground and the only person who could keep up was the man interlocked with her lips.

Today, June 16, 2006, was her day; their day and there was nothing anyone could do to stop the gloating in the both of them. The party after words was amazing and almost as beautiful as he was.

No one would tell Mac this, but this was her last chance at happiness. Her fate is decided on this day, and wither or not she likes it, that is how it is. You can see the angelic of her beauty as she flashes a smile before another kiss to the man she gave her heart to.

"I love you Brain McIntyre," she whispered.

Ducking under the laundry basket, Mac pulled out the last bit of fresh, clean clothes from the dryer. She placed the shirts in a basket and let it lead her to the counter. Slowly, she grabbed a shirt and let it drape from a hanger. Placing the hanger on a rod above her, she when on to the next shirt.

Life was perfect for Mac. At least it is now. It was a day in the past, and will always be hidden by the unwilling gossip and chatter about what might have happened those everlasting nights.

Her eyes where stained from past tears of allergies. It was probably something the cat dragged in, or maybe the flowers, which staged themselves perfectly on the kitchen table. She stood back, admiring her simplistic task completed. Smiling, she walked into the kitchen and preheated the over before her mind mingled on the wonders of what dinner she would fix. Saturday had when by so quickly and since she wasn't in the office, more task at home where completed with delight.

She looked around, not wanting to miss a single thing. Grabbing a bag of pre-made salad out of the fridge and laid it neatly on the counter top. Taking some pasta sauce and noodles out of the pantry, she looked for the right size of pan.

About ten minutes later, the job was all but finished, waiting for the buzzer to ring. It would be about five minutes, and about two minutes after that; then he would join her with a quick smile. The Saturdays where routines anymore, one she had down to the second. Brushing her hair back behind her ear, she awaited her internal clock to buzz as she read through an old Reader's Digest lying on the side table. Reading through the last joke, she sat it down. Two minutes had past, and while is was very aware of the fact, she wasn't going to panic, knowing, well hoping the little extra time, exactly one minute and 27 no 28 seconds had past. But, tonight, luck was against her, as she opened the oven door. Pulling out the "meal" with a mitt, and laid the dish on the stovetop. Steam rose up, smoking the room as the pasta was more than brown, and the sauce began to pop bubbles. Over her slight cursing, she heard the door open.

"Sarah!" she heard a voice yelled. Rolling her eyes at her more than terrible luck, she put the "meal" in the sink and ran water over it, letting it creep into the cracks.

"Sarah, what the hell is that smell?" he asked, standing behind her.

"Yeah, how about we order a pizza?" Mac asked, turning around, completely guilt faced.

"What, you screwed up supper?" he asked in a challenging voice.

"And when was the last time you cooked supper?"

"When was the last time you worked weekends?" Brain asked, glaring at her.

"I worked my butt off today: laundry, cleaning, cooking," she said, feeling rather belittled by the conversation.

"And you can't seem to do even that right," he said.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that! You self conceded ass…" Mac was shut up by a smack on her cheek. Backing down, she held her cheek, not believing the scene that just unfolded. Clouding her cheek with her hand, she didn't hear, nor want to hear what he was saying.

"I am so sorry, Sarah. Oh my God, I never… Sarah, please… please forgive me! It's work, I'm so stressed and I didn't… oh my God, Sarah, I didn't!"

"Get out," you harshly whispered in a barely audible voice.

"Sarah, let's talk about this like grown adults," he pleaded, looking at the women he more than love.

"Get out!" she practically screamed, pointing harshly at the door with a shaking finger. Her whole body was shaking, and the 'seeing red' was an understatement. She, again, was taught what that meant. Her eyes followed him past out of the kitchen, and then her feet brought her to the entrance of the kitchen, only to see him pass the staircase leading to the door and walk towards the master bed room. He came out less then a minute later with a small duffle bag in hand, stuffed with numerous things. He opened the door without saying a word, and as he turned around to close it, he looked up at those tear stained eyes he fell in love with. His mouth open to say one of the million words he needed to, but instead, he kept mute as he closed the door and walked out. Mac watched him drive off as she wiped at the non-existence tear.

Turning around, she picked up phone. Temped to dial the man she hadn't really talk to, she instead dialed the local Pizza Hut and order a medium pizza with only her favorite toppings.

Going into her bathroom, she examined the markings. Pulling out a little tube of foundation, she placed a little on her finger, and rubbed it gently over the marking. He was a strong man, a Navy SEALs trainee, so the marking was red, threatening to change into a darker purple. Adding a touch of blush to both sides of the cheek, letting the redness mix. She gave a weak smile, and combed through her hair with her fingers as she let only one tear drop.

Awaiting the doorbell, she tried to busy herself in a book. Finally, exactly twelve minutes and forty-eight… nine seconds later, the doorbell gave an annoying buzz. Getting out the money, she answered the door, and traded with the man, probably about twenty-five. He looked at her with a sheepish smile, as he gave a small thank you to the four-dollar tip.

Setting the pizza on the coffee table, she grabbed a beer from the fridge. Going into the living room, she flipped on the TV and attacked the pizza.

Twenty minutes later, she was on her third beer and fourth slice. About an hour after that, she was passed out; three-fourths of the pizza gone and ten open beer bottles tiled the floor, as the TV played through an hour long info-mercial. The lights shined brightly throughout the house.

He drove outside at midnight, like he had done for over a year. Stopping at her house, he looked at the house. His car was gone, and the lights where on. He was more than tempted to ring the doorbell, or call, but something wouldn't let him, so instead, he drove back to his place with a sad smile.

The night passed with no noise from Sarah. It wasn't until noon that she was actually fully awake. Her eyes batted as she rubbed her aching head. Turning, she moaned, forcing herself to sit up and survey her surrounding. It didn't take her longer than a second before she realized she had passed out, drunk, something she hadn't done in a long time. Steadying herself, she picked up the mess slowly, trying hard not to stumble over her own two feet.

After the pizza box and beer bottles found their new homes in the trashcan, she fixed an infamous shake; one she had hope she would never have to make again. Finishing with the blender, she poured it into a glass and forced the more than disgusting stuff down her throat.

The thought of why or what never passed through her mind until she found herself in front of a mirror before getting into a cold shower. The shivering thought plagued her as she let herself in the shower, hoping to rinse away whatever was left of him. After forty-six minutes in the shower, Mac dried off and got dressed. Appling a bit of makeup, she made herself a sandwich as she tried to decide what she would say if he called or came back.

That Sunday pasted solemnly. Mac had no contact with the outside world, no contact with any world besides the beer bottles. By midnight, all the beers were in the trashcan, and the only thing she had eaten was half of the sandwich she made for lunch. She was eagerly passed out by then.

Waking up at exactly 0800, she changed her clothes, and set out for an early morning jog. She had ran for 23 minutes before heading back home. Deciding to take the long way around the park, she enjoyed the dark lit scenery. Forty-five minutes later, she was slowing down her pace as she turned on to her street. Looking down the road, she saw the more than beautiful sunrise.

Smiling, she thought back to Brain. His darkly tan arms wrapped tightly around her petite body as they watched the sunrise on the beach. His softer voice, sang her to sleep every night those twelve nights. He was more than Heaven, more than happiness dared to ever bring her before. How was she supposed to live her life without him?

Unlocking her house, she looked around at the settings. Cleaning up the beer bottle timidly, she turned on another cold shower, as she got ready for work.

Thanks for reading, more will come soon. Please review, and if you couldn't tell, I kind of need a beta, so if you could either email me or leave your email in the review telling me you would, that would be great! Remember the little purple thing is your friend!