TITLE: What Happens Here Stays Here

RATING: PG-13

PAIRING: Harm/Mac

DISCLAIMER: I do not own JAG.

Author's Note: FINALLY!!! Wow, did this chapter take a long time. I suffered from quite a bout of writer's block, but finally I got this chapter to work. This story is now moving into the next section, which I decided to keep under the same title. Thank you everyone for your reviews and your patience!!! Thanks for reading. Enjoy!!

Chapter Title: What Dreams May Come

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown

0700 EST

The thick fog covered the world like a blanket all around him. It started just like this, Harm thought, as he walked cautiously. First darkness, then overcome by fog, and each time he saw more and more. He wondered then how far it would go. Each scene progressed a bit further, only displaying the next minute image, but nothing more. Each night it did this. In fact, for the past month, his mind would not let go of these seemingly meaningless images.

This time, there was more. This time the fog broke slightly before him, Harm never remembering it doing so before. This time the darkness broke into light. What he did not expect to see was her face, the face of the woman he loved. It was the face of the woman that was his life, and he was hers. It was Sarah. She smiled, simple and elegant. He knew that smile, saw that smile on her a million times. He strived for it constantly, to make her smile.

However, fire erupted from behind her, beginning to engulf her. Harm screamed her name, ran towards her, faster and faster. It was all he could do to try and catch her, get to her. It was all he could do to run faster than he ever did so before. He needed to rescue her, and he couldn't let the fire hurt her. As if in response, a man appeared behind her, as she tried diligently to escape the fire beginning to encircle her. Before Sarah realized her current situation, the danger beginning to build, it was too late. The man revealed a pistol, shot it once, twice, and a third.

Harm felt his throat go hoarse, desperately shouting her name, seeing her fall to the ground helplessly. Thoughts of denial, worry, anxiety, haste, needing to get to her as fast as he could to help her. Yet the more he ran, the further away he seemed, the further away he was. The feeling of never getting to her, never catching her, losing her forever, began to shade his heart, his soul. It was too much, and all he could do was shout her name again and again, hoping that something would snap, change things. So he shouted her name.

.....

"Sarah!" Harm shouted, jolting upright in bed, the sweat from his forehead stinging his eyes. Hardly able to catch his breath, his eyes shifted quickly around the room to determine his current location. A dresser with a mirror stood on one wall, a nightstand on either side of the bed, the sun shining brightly though the window, blinding him momentarily, all reassured him he was not in his own apartment, but in Mac's. No fog covered the room, no gunshots, no man, no dying Mac. Only silence met his confused thoughts.

Sighing, Harm dropped back down on the bed, covering his face with his hands. Almost every night was like this, thoughts of losing Mac in such a dramatic way never leaving his dreams. A month he suffered with the problem, and every night the dream worsened. Just as Mac's face flashed across his mind once again, he turned quickly to his right to see if she still slept quietly beside him. However, her side was vacant. Sighing again, he turned to the clock seeing seven o'clock displayed. Not hearing the shower or activity outside the bedroom, he knew Mac left already for her morning run.

Harm must admit his surprise of Mac not waking him to run with her. They shared such an activity together every morning since they moved in together, the early part of the day usually the only time for such closeness. Meetings, court cases, and travel took the rest of the day from them, giving them no time together until the late evening or early morning. If either needed to prepare a huge case or returned home late, the other would try to stay up to wait. More often than not, one of them investigated a case over seas on a carrier while the other waited patiently for their return. Finding time alone turned into a rarity, though much more often than when they lived apart. Not running together when they finally found the chance annoyed Harm a little, only because he spent the previous week on a carrier. Actually, not spending the morning in bed with Mac after finally returning home the night before to find her sound asleep annoyed him slightly.

Finally sitting up, out of bed, and standing, Harm immediately felt the rush of cold air of an early December morning, wearing only shorts and a T-shirt. He hated the winter season, hoping then he might find himself, with Mac, of course, in Hawaii for their retirement. The thought warmed his body enough to do a few exercises, push-ups and sit-ups, since he apparently missed the wake-up call to run, before hurrying into the kitchen to start the coffee. However, looking quickly through the cabinets, no coffee grounds could be found. Grumbling as he left the kitchen, he quickly headed towards the bathroom to take a shower.

Stepping in, he turned the shower on, immediately feeling the force of the water pulsing at his upper back, the particular spot giving him trouble. Since the dreams started, so did the muscle aches, causing him to walk gingerly around JAG on many occasions. His obvious pain turned heads, worrying colleagues. Yet the most important worried face was Mac's, who obviously knew of his back problems, often giving him back rubs to help with the pain. All helped in the moment, yet the pain always returned, worrying Mac that much more. In that instance, images from his dreams flashed across his mind, the man, the gunshots, the fire, and Harm immediately jolted his face out of the steaming shower. Such images he kept to himself, even from Mac. At least until an explanation presented itself. He didn't feel a need to scare Mac for no reason, especially when the dream may just be his imagination, his own fear of losing her.

Walking out of the bathroom and into the living room wearing his black navy pants and a T-shirt, Harm immediately saw Mac in the kitchen cutting up fruit and making breakfast. He could smell the eggs, the coffee, which she must've picked up on her run, and some bacon. Nearly a week since he saw her last, Harm eagerly walked the length of the living room into the kitchen, stepping up and embracing Mac from behind with no hesitation. He sensed Mac's happiness with his movement as she leaned back further into his arms. Placing a kiss on her shoulder, the back of her neck, he whispered, "I've missed you."

Mac smirked, trying to hide her smile as she turned in his arms, settling her hands on his chest. Sleep did not come easy with Harm on a carrier, many nights Mac sitting up to finish work on cases. Having him home meant the universe was back in line, if only for a week. Mac would swear that Admiral Krennick knew about their relationship, constantly sending them on cases located halfway across the world, especially since they moved in together over a month ago. "I've missed you," Mac replied in a whisper, her lips instantly capturing Harm's, the kiss light and sensual. A week since they kissed, Mac thought, an entire week. Remembering that small fact, Mac deepened the kiss, a moan eliciting from Harm in response. As the kiss ended, Mac cupped his face in her hands, pressing her forehead against his. "I'm glad you're home."

"Me, too," Harm whispered against her lips, Mac kissing him again. Harm smirked, knowing he thought of Mac every second he was gone, missing her, missing her embrace, her kisses, her soft skin, everything. He missed her playfulness, missed spending the morning in her arms. Tightening his hold around her waist, he finally wanted to ask the question begging to be asked, knowing Mac always had reasons for doing something out of the ordinary, such as not waking him to run with her. "Why didn't you wake me up this morning?" Harm asked softly, stepping back from her a bit, giving them room to talk seriously.

Mac shrugged slightly, moving back to her fruit. "You were finally sleeping soundly, I didn't want to disturb you," she reasoned, cutting more fruit, handing a slice of apple to Harm, who took it.

Sighing, Harm pressed further with a devilish eye before eating the slice of apple, "Hasn't stopped you before."

Mac smirked at his comment, placing all of the fruit into a bowl before turning to him fully. Harm liked to play this game, Mac thought. The game of hiding his true feelings, his weakness. If Harm really thought she didn't notice his sleeping problems, than he wasn't giving her enough credit. Now sleeping beside him every night, noticing Harm's lack of sleep, tossing and turning, up half the night, was not difficult. In fact, the behavior began to worry Mac a bit, knowing how good Harm usually slept. "You haven't been sleeping well lately," she offered simply, matter-of-factly.

"Thought I needed it?" Harm asked, deciding not to budge one bit concerning his current problems. Not because he didn't want to share, but because of the nature of the problem. Knowing so little did not warrant telling Mac when his dreams may just be an overreaction to the next level their relationship has gone. He would deal with the problem in its due time, knowing it may go away just as it came. Harm did not intend on making more out of the dream than needed.

Stepping forward towards Harm, Mac only a few inches from him, a hand clasping his, she replied, "Yeah, I did." Already his face dripped of exhaustion, a burden heavy on his shoulders. Seeing his face as often as Mac has in the past 6 months, noticing small changes came with the territory. Noticing pain in his eyes, worry, trouble. If anything, she hoped her own worry matched with Harm's love for her might encourage him to share his problem. She knew he was hiding one, wishing to bury it, hoping it would solve itself. Yet the problem seemed serious, enough so to prevent him from sleeping, keep his mind off of JAG, his work, and even her.

Harm sighed, choosing to look away, not wanting to lie while looking into Mac's beautiful brown eyes. Her concern made Harm feel extremely special, lucky, knowing full well having Mac care for him as deeply as this meant everything to him. If the problem were different, Harm would probably share it, having told Mac many of his deepest secrets already. A huge part of his heart told him of the commitment he made with Mac by moving in together, though not married, but still promising to share such secrets. The idea of sharing a bed every night didn't just include the physical commitment, but the emotional, as well, promising to face such problems as a couple, as one, never alone. Yet the words releasing from his lips, rolling off his tongue, "It's nothing."

"Being so exhausted that you hardly get through the day is nothing?" Mac pointed out, the fabric of his T-shirt soft in her hands as she fiddled with the bottom, looking down for a second before matching Harm's eyes. She intended on pushing her own conclusions further, not allowing him to hide in the darkness too much longer. To let him get away without telling her would be a personal disappointment for Mac, because his stubbornness would allow him to suffer in his pain alone, despite how easy the solution would reveal itself if she were involved. Facing a problem together would make the pain, the burden much easier to bear. Why did Harm insist on hiding? Did he not know this?

Harm sighed deeply with irritation, wishing the subject never arose, and answered quickly, "I'm just not tired at night." That explanation should be good enough, yet the face meeting him, the eyes that reassured him that such an answer did nothing to lessen Mac's worry for him, Harm knew he needed another story. Actually, Mac seeing his problem, knowing it's existence, told of the extent she paid attention to him, how much she knew of him, and how much she would do for him. Not just love, but deeper. Her emotions did not show of a worried girlfriend, but something much more. Much more indeed. Feeling Mac's hands move to his sides, the soft touch and comfort they brought, he decided to admit, "My back has been hurting some."

Mac only nodded, thinking for a second, knowing his back problems were only a symptom to something much bigger, something possibly neither knew the extent of. Perhaps his lack of sleep, his back problems, exhaustion warned them of something to come. Perhaps Harm knew of what was coming, so afraid to tell her in fear of worrying her, of needing to protect her. Perhaps, Mac thought. In the meantime, knowing nothing of value, she moved her hands to his shoulders, stepping closer, placing a small kiss on his lips. "Okay. You finish up here," Mac began, deciding to go along with his story for the immediate moment, "... and I'll go take a shower. When I return, I'll give you a massage."

Harm smiled, whispering softly, happy she was letting the conversation go, "I'd like that." He captured her lips again, the feel of them a sensation he would never forget for the rest of his life.

Releasing, Mac wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Above all else, Mac needed to reassure him of her utmost commitment. No matter what, she would never leave him, would always help him, even if he wouldn't let her. Through whatever problems, first and foremost, Harm needed to assign Mac's role, which, at the moment, was more physical comfort than emotional. Though the idea hurt Mac slightly, wanting to be there for him in everyway he needed, to concede in the role given was much more important. For the moment, Mac reminded herself. For the moment. Eventually, and quite soon, Harm would learn if this relationship was going to succeed on any level, they needed to be open in every situation. Soon.

Her lips to his ear, she whispered, "This conversation is far from over." With a kiss to his cheek, she moved away, squeezing his hand before leaving him alone in the kitchen.

Harm sighed deeply, turning to place his hands on the counter, leaning on it for support. Watching her leave, he felt his heart sink, realizing how much of a jerk he was, how his concept of hiding for the greater good came back to bite him. Why did he think Mac couldn't handle it? If anyone, Mac of all people could handle his dreams, his fears. So many nights did he lay in her arms, telling her of his past, of all he went through with his father, his family. So often did they comfort each other, so often did they hold each other into the darkness of the night. So often.

He needed to tell her. Soon.

................

... More to Come ...

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