AN: In my last chapter, some people said that they couldn't see Mac retiring from the military. One, we don't know how serious the illness is and two, don't you think if you were on the verge of dying, you would take a different look on life? Maybe reorganize your priorities a little? There's a reason for it, I promise, but maybe it was just time that she did it.

Chapter 11: Loving You

Harm arrived home, pizza in one hand, briefcase and his cover in the other. By doing some creative juggling, he managed to pull out his keys and open the door. He looked around for Mac as he made his way to the kitchen to set his stuff down. Signs of her were scattered all over his loft, now their loft. A wedding picture was set on a bookshelf, more pictures of just the two of them over the years surrounding it. She had a pair of running shoes by the door, her jacket hanging up on the rack above it, a blanket of hers on the couch. She had moved in to his apartment, his life, his mind, heart, and soul and he honestly couldn't remember how he ever lived and survived without her.

He glanced around one more time, still looking for his wife, not wanting to wake her if she was sleeping. He slowly, quietly made his way to his partially closed off bedroom and found Mac curled up on top of the bed, fast asleep. An open bottle of her pain medication was sitting on the nightstand. He sighed, knowing that she only took the pills when the pain was really bad. She was still a Marine, she often told him, and could handle a "little" pain. She had lied to him about it being a good day because he was stressed about Krennick. They both wanted so badly to protect each other from the pain that life caused them; they would both try to hide what pain they were going through.

Thinking of the pizza cooling down in the kitchen, he debated on whether or not to wake her. Deciding that it would be better to let her sleep than feed her now, Harm changed out of his uniform and into a pair of NAVY sweats and a white t-shirt. He lay down behind her, scooting close so that his chest was against her back and he wrapped an arm around her small waist. Enjoying the feeling of just simply being near Sarah Mackenzie, he found himself lost in her scent and her presence and joined his wife in dreamland.

Mac's growling stomach woke her a few hours later. She wasn't able to keep down her breakfast that morning and so hadn't eaten anything since. Now she was starving and needed to eat something to keep up her strength.

Mac began to move but found herself held tightly in the arms of one Harmon Rabb Jr. Her movement to pull away had caused him to subconsciously pull her even tighter. So instead of attempting again to get up, she turned in his hold to face him. He looked beautiful when he was sleeping. All the worries, all the stress in his life was gone; his face was completely void of any emotion but complete peacefulness and happiness.

Visually, she traced the features on his face. His dark short locks of hair down to his closed eyes, eyes that when open could look at her in such a way as if he could see deep into her soul; his sweet lips that could do things to her that made her shiver. She felt as if she could stare at him forever. Her gaze trailed down to his left hand and at the gold wedding band on his finger. It was a symbol of love, devotion, and marriage. It was a symbol of their love, just a symbol. The real thing was much more powerful. Her eyes made their way back up, as if memorizing his every feature, and then stopped at the sight of two expressive sea-green eyes gazing back at her.

She blushed at the intensity of his gaze but did not look away.

"Like what you see?" he asked gently, his voice teasing.

"Uh-huh," she said, nodding.

"Really?" His tone sounded almost self-conscious, not cocky like usual. It was as if he wasn't aware of how devastatingly handsome he truly was.

"Do you have any idea how handsome you are?"

"Vaguely, I might need to be reminded by my beautiful wife though," said Harm, reaching out to gently caress her face.

She nuzzled into his cupped hand, grateful for the strength his touch seemed to unknowingly provide her.

"Are you feeling better?" he tenderly asked.

As if on cue, her stomach grumbled, causing them both to break into a gentle easy laughter.

"Seriously, Sarah, why didn't you tell me that you weren't feeling well today?" He pulled his hand away from her cheek and reached down to take her hand in his, entwining their fingers together.

"Because I didn't want to worry you and I can handle-."

"I always worry about you," he interrupted. "And yes, I know you can handle it, you're a Marine, but you're also human and you're my wife. I love you and I worry about you."

Tears welled in her eyes. How did someone like her ever find someone like Harm?

She leaned in and gently brushed her lips against his cheek. Instead of pulling away, she snuggled in against his warm, strong body. "I'm fine now," she softly assured him. "But you won't be unless you feed me."

"Maybe I'd better feed you then," said Harm thoughtfully.

"Maybe," she mocked.

Minutes later, they were seated at the kitchen table. "Harriet wanted to know if we were going to have another wedding, at least in front of all of our friends. She said she'd be more than willing to help out with it, if we wanted," Harm told her, watching as Mac devoured her slices of pizza. One thing that hadn't changed over the past several years was Mac's ability to down any food set before her in a matter of seconds.

Mac didn't answer.

"What do you think?" he carefully asked.

"Do you want to?"

"I don't know."

Had she not been so tired, she would have become angry at his non-vague answer. He saw the frustrated look on her face and winced.

"Mac, I really don't know. Maybe we should, maybe we shouldn't. They are our friends, most of them have waited for years for us to get it together, they deserve to be at our wedding. But then again maybe what we had was just enough for us. It is us getting married, not them. It was just us, for once, and sometimes I don't mind it being just us. I liked what we did, it was perfect, but if you want more, then I'll fully support you," he rambled. During his ramblings, he had gotten up and was pacing around. Mac couldn't hold back a small smile; he was so cute when he was riled.

He stopped, pausing to catch his breath and she took the opportunity to rise from her chair, the pizza once again forgotten. She moved to stand before him, placing her hands on his broad, firm chest.

His arms immediately came up to wrap around her waist. He watched and waited as she played with the collar of his t-shirt.

"Sarah?"

"Yes?"

"What do you think?"

She finally looked up to meet his curious gaze.

"I think...that maybe...you look damn sexy in dress whites," Mac said flirtatiously.

"I thought you once told me that dress whites and gold wings have no effect on you."

"I lied," she bluntly admitted, continuing to play with his shirt.

"Good," he said, leaning down to kiss her. It was intended to be gentle, soft, and sweet but it took on a mind of its own when she kissed him back. Her kiss was needy and filled with urgency and he lost all sense of anything around him.

A need for oxygen forced them apart, both trying to regain control of their breathing.

"I guess that solves that question," Harm said. "I'm glad we worked that out."

"So am I," she agreed.

"Are you sure you want to go through with a big wedding?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'm beginning to get a little bored around here; planning a wedding will give me something to do," decided Mac.

"I have only one request and then you can make the rest of the decisions about everything," he started.

"What?"

"Roses. We must have roses," Harm declared, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against hers.

"Definitely," she murmured, closing the distance between them to kiss her husband.