A/N: This song just made think of their first time together.

Soundtracks

Track 13: Show Me Heaven Maria McKee

It's never been like this for me before. I've never been so nervous and yet so ready, and as he leads me up the stairs to his bedroom, I'm sure he can feel me trembling. Of course, he can. I'm shaking like a leaf, and I'm afraid he'll think I don't want this. And I do want this. I've never wanted anything or anyone more.

He turns to me and pulls me closer. "Come here, Sarah," he whispers, and I melt into him. His arms go around me and for a moment we just sway to music of our own creation. His heart beats steady and strong under my hand, and it's just fast enough for me to know he's just as affected by our closeness as I am.

Harm's work-roughened hands brush over my skin as they travel up and down my back and then he's twining his fingers through my hair, his thumbs tracing the contours of my ears. He dips his head and his lips find mine, his kiss merely a light caress. He uses the same soft touch as he moves from my mouth to the sensitive spot behind my ear and he takes a moment to gently tug at my earlobe with his impossibly soft lips. A soft moan escapes me, and then the only sounds in the room is our increasingly rapid breathing. I can feel Harm's heart speed up to match mine.

Each touch is a delicate tease, and when I chance to glance up into his eyes, there's a fever in them that burn me and mark me as his. In that moment I know he's never looked at anyone else like this before and I know this will be each of our last first times.

Despite the words of my father, the gossiping of my classmates, and the not so quiet whispers from Chris's friends, I haven't had many lovers. Chris was my first, and I was so nervous I needed to be half-drunk to do it. Of course, I was often drunk when we were together, although Chris was complimentary enough that my confidence in the bedroom gradually improved. My next partner was John. He was gentle and kind; I think he sensed I hadn't had much experience and he wanted me to feel safe and maybe even loved. After John, and I know no one will ever believe this, I wasn't with anyone else until Dalton. Dalton never asked about my past lovers. I suspect he just assumed I'd been with many others and that he had the advantage of being able to woo me with any number of expensive dinners and baubles. He never mentioned it, but I also suspected he knew I came from the wrong side of the tracks so he felt he never had to work too hard to impress me.

"Um, you can have the bathroom first…if you, um, want, Ma—Sarah."

"Harm—"

"I can make you some tea—or not…I think I packed that."

"Harm?"

"Did I tell you I'm going to leave the bed? I'm sure I, or, er, we will be back in Washington now and again…"

"Harm!"

Harm startles and nearly stumbles. He's so obviously nervous, and I get the sick feeling he's having second thoughts.

And why not? I rather ambushed him earlier tonight. His proposal was said during the heat of passionate kisses. I'd felt his growing hardness but that didn't necessarily mean he loved me in the "I need to marry you" sense. Besides, it was obvious we've always had a physical attraction toward each other

"Mac—"

"Harm, it's okay. I'll go. Let's just forget this ever happened."

I turn and head for the door. My eyes are dry; I wonder if I'm so unemotional because deep down I always knew it would happen this way. I walk quickly down the stairs and across his living room. I make it to the door and my fingers reach for the doorknob…

And suddenly Harm is snatching my hand back and flipping me around. It's a shocking thing, seeing his eyes so wet with tears, the hurt so evident in those sea blue depths.

"Mac, do you not want this? I thought…" He abruptly lets go of me and turns away, his shoulders slumping.

I'm beginning to think I've perhaps misinterpreted the situation…

"Harm? I do…I just…well, I thought you might be having second thoughts."

Harm's eyes widen and he starts shaking his head. "No, No, Mac…never!"

I flinch at his words, or word, actually. I once uttered that word to him, and we were messed up for so long it's a wonder we're even in the same room now.

"Maaac…" Harm's big hand runs over my hair and then rests on my shoulder. "I'm sorry…that was a poor choice of words."

I shake my head. "No, Harm. It's stupid. One word…well, that word…it shouldn't bother me, especially when I'm the one who said it."

"Mac, sweetheart, it's not stupid. And I don't think it's really the word that bothers us—"

"It's what happened after," I finish for him.

"And before, during…"

"Yeah," I say, my eyes dropping downward. I feel Harm's fingertips brush across my cheek and then he tips my face upward.

"Mac…I know we have a lot to work through, but know this…there is nowhere I'd rather be than right here, right now, and no one I'd rather be with than you."

I can tell he's sincere, but why is he so nervous? Is he still afraid I'm upset that we'll be going to London? I told him over and over at McMurphy's that my place is with him, wherever we may be, and I meant it. And honestly, I'm rather relieved. A command in San Diego would have been a great boon to my career, but with my history it's not like I'd ever make general, so how far could I really go? Besides…though I know it's unlikely to be a successful endeavor, I'd rather like to try for that four percent solution. Working long hours to set up a brand new command doesn't seem as if it would be conducive to a young, healthy woman getting pregnant, much less an older woman who already has fertility issues.

"Mac?" Harm sounds so tentative, and I realize I've been standing here, biting my lip, as I think about Harm and London and San Diego and everything that has led us up to this moment.

"Harm," I whisper, and then my arms go around his waist, holding him as tightly as I can. He returns my embrace, but he's gentler than I am, and I beg him to hold me tighter…tighter.

Minutes pass as we hold each other, minutes I can't count, and then we both loosen our hold to look into each other's eyes. Harm steps away first, and I wonder if he's seen something he doesn't like.

Stop it Mac. He wants you. He loves you. Another glance at him tells me my inner voice is right for once.

The fever is once again flashing from his eyes as he holds his hand out to me. "Come over here, Sarah." I take his hand and then he's kissing me again, and I'm feel like I am flying above everything, above the last two miserable years, the years after Mic when I thought Harm and I would finally get it together, and the years before when I couldn't admit to myself that I was irrevocably in love with Harm.

Our kiss once again deepens and I'm growing weak with the passion that is coursing through my veins. My feet slip out from under me and Harm gathers me close. "Don't let me fall," I whisper, and as his lips brush over mine, he whispers my name.

"I've already fallen, Mac."

I realize then that tears are coursing down my cheek. Harm brushes them away and his lips follows his fingers. "Don't cry, baby. Don't cry." He scoops me up and I wrap my arms around his neck as he carries me back to the bedroom. He settles me on the bed, and then he covers me with his body.

This is heaven. This is the way it was always meant to be. My legs wrap around him as his mouth travels down my cheek, my jaw, and to my neck. I reach up and cups his face with my hands, pulling him back down to my lips. I invite his tongue in, and then we're probing each other's mouths. I'm breathless in moments, and I have to stop to catch my breath.

Harm uses that moment to sit up on his knees. He pulls his dress shirt from where it is tucked into his trousers, his uniform jacket and cummerbund already safely discarded in the living room. I sit up as well and my fingers find the button of his pants. They're shaking, and I wonder how I'll ever find the coordination to release his growing hardness. Honestly, my whole body is shaking as if I'm in a breeze, and Harm's hand comes down to cover mine. "Let me," he says, and then he's opening himself to me. I push his pants and boxers down, but before I can take him in hand, he whispers for me to wait. He reaches around to tug at the zipper of my dress, and then I'm bared to him as well.

"Sarah," he breathes. "Sarah, Sarah, Sarah. You're so beautiful."

"So are you, my love," I tell him, but my voice trembles, and even as his eyes light up at my endearment, they show his concern as well.

"Sarah, honey, are you scared?"

My eyes fill again and before I can stop myself, I nod.

"Why, baby?"

I bite my lip as he brushes my tears away for the second time tonight. "Because…" I finally say. "This—" I motion between us. "Is a dream I've had for so long, and I'm afraid I'm going to wake up."

"Oh, Mac," he murmurs and pulls me toward him. We're both topless and as he comforts me, I grow ever more aroused as my nipples harden against his chest.

"Honey," he whispers in my ear. "I'm frightened as much as you. I've been having the same dream, and I'm afraid I'll wake up too."

I'm shocked when I look up and find two tears tracking down his cheek. I rise up and kiss them away, and as I feel his hardness against my stomach, a moan escapes from deep in my throat. This feels so divine. Harm's hold on me tightens, but I still manage slide a hand in between us, until I'm just barely touching him. A shiver goes down my spine as my fingers wrap around his manhood, and his answer is to thrust himself into my hand with a deep, rumbling groan.

I'll never remember how, but the rest of our clothing melts away. We're skin to skin, heart to heart as he pushes me back, kissing me deeply. His lips then travel their way down my body, his tongue circling the hollow of my throat, where my pulse beats out a staccato rhythm. He continues to work his way down, his hands exploring me, stroking me as I arch into him, wanting more of this, wanting more of his love.

I'm whimpering as he kisses me just above my curls, his big hands going around my hips, his thumbs gently pressing into the flesh on either side of my sex. His hot breath on me has me thrusting my hips upward and in a moment I'm begging him to touch me, to taste me. He obliges, his tongue circling my clit before teasing my opening with his tongue. His fingers find me then, and when I feel them inside me, I rock around them with a strangle cry.

He's so good at this as he curls his fingers within me, stroking upward until he finds that one special spot that makes me go utterly wild. I'm writhing beneath him, nearly sobbing when his fingers pull away from me, but when his fingers twine through mine and he looks up at me, I know this is more than about pleasure. It's about love. It's about him showing me how much he loves me with every touch, every caress, every kiss. I only hope he can feel the same from me as I come under his mouth, crying out his name as I tumble over the edge.

Harm isn't finished though. His tongue laps up my sexual flow then dives into me, drawing from me another orgasm, this one even more intense than the last. I want to return the favor, to take the length of him into my hot mouth until his release, and then swallow every last drop.

Harm has other plans, however. He moves up my body to kiss me, and as I taste myself on his lips he asks me to let him come inside me. "Mac, please," he begs, his voice low and rough, and I know I'll never be able to refuse him anything if he speaks like that.

Our eyes lock, and with a nod, I invite him to cover me with his whole body again, and then he's nudging me open with his tip. He pushes into me and pulls back, then does it again and again, each time going a little further while I gasp his name. Once he's finally completely sheathed in me, he waits a moment to give me time to adjust, and just when I'm about beg him to move, we begin the exquisite dance.

And it is exquisite. Romance novels would have you believe that sex is always some magical, beautiful thing, but my experience has not been as such. I shouldn't even be thinking about this now, but the contrast between this moment and any with Webb is nearly indescribable.

Each time I was with Webb, each time I told him I wanted him was a stab to my heart. I didn't realize it then and couldn't acknowledge the shame that filled me every time I tasted the alcohol on his lips. By the time it was all over, my heart was in pieces, their edges jagged and sharp, and I had lost so much of myself that I had nothing left to give Harm. I wanted him, but whenever he came close to breaking through the barriers I'd erected around me, I pushed back with a vengeance. My heart, stitched together with the weakest of threads, couldn't believe that Harm could want the woman I'd become after Paraguay, after endometriosis, and after Webb.

I was wrong. Harm is here, touching me, and he bleeds love with every caress. He worships my body while his mouth breathes new life into my battered soul. He holds my heart in his hands, and his deft fingers remold it into something that's beautiful and whole. I've never loved anyone like this. I never knew one could love like this.

Harm whispers my name over and over as he loves me, then tells me he's waited for this moment his entire life. A week, even a day ago, I wouldn't have believed him, but now that we've opened ourselves completely to each other, I can see the truth in his eyes as they gaze into mine and in his hands as he touches me.

Our movements have become more impassioned and with each thrust he goes deeper and deeper. I squeeze around him with my inner muscles, crying out when he hits the entrance to my womb. I know I'm about to come and oh, I don't want this to end. Harm can tell, and for a moment he stills. "Let it go, baby. Let it go for me." And then he's moving again, faster, faster, until I come with his name on my lips. I'm shaking around him as he thrusts one last time, giving into the fire between his. His warm seed fills me as our sweat slickened bodies rest together, and then he rolls off me, pulling me with him until he's comfortable on his back. His arms go around me as I burrow into his side.

Our quickened breaths are the only sounds in the room until I, now completely overwhelmed, begin to cry.

I'm so happy, but I'm crying for more than that. I cry for the little girl I was, the one who was abandoned by the one who should have loved her the most. I cry for the teenager who drank away her pain, and for the young woman who searched for love and never found it. Finally I cry for the woman whose life, the one she'd worked so hard to build, was eroded away until it was something unrecognizable.

I can finally rebuild now. The man who holds me how, the one who softly strokes my hair and back, comforting me, has hurt me. More than once in fact. I've hurt him too, deeply so, but now that we've stopped running from each other, we can finally forgive and grow.

"Mac, sweetheart," Harm begins once I finally calm. "Are you okay?"

I nod against him. "Yeah, I am now."

"Me too." I glance up at him and realize Harm has been crying as well. He gives me a watery smile and I know he understands what just happened.

"I love you, Harm."

"I love you too." He's quiet for a moment before he asks me another question. "How do you feel, Sarah?"

I know he's asking about the endometriosis; once he found out about my condition, he threw himself into researching the disease. He is aware as well as I am that sex can be painful for people like me.

The truth is, I am a little sore, but I think it's more because it's been a while since I've been with anyone. Nothing hurt the way it did with Webb, anyway.

How do I feel? I've been through a lot these last two years, but with the strength I've found again and the love of the man who now holds me, I can think of only one word to say…

How do you feel, Sarah?

"Whole, Harm. I feel whole."

Harm smiles down at me. "I know exactly what you mean, my love."

We're both whole now.

End Track 13