Title : Tell Him

Author : Jaggie 107

Disclaimer : JAG characters belong to DPB, CBS and Paramount. I hope all parties will allow me to have fun for a little while, and replace them all when I'm done. Thank you.

Rating : G to PG-13

Spoilers : None as such, after the Dining-Out though!

Summary : Another songfic – heard the song, couldn't resist!

Monday Morning - JAG Headquarters

"Ugh, it's that time of year again," muttered Mac as she spotted Harriet walking, or rather waddling, out of Bud's office. Harm was standing at Mac's door as he looked across and caught Harriet's smile, giving her a smile in return.

"What time, Mac?" he asked, turning to look at Mac as she screwed up her face.

"Harriet's fund-raising drives. I love her dearly, but she always tries to drag us into singing something. I might go into hiding this year."

"You wouldn't dare," Harm retorted, grinning, and Mac scowled again before relenting and nodding her head.

"I know. You might fear me, Harm, but I know we both fear Harriet more! It must be hell for Bud when she's in PMT mode."

"Even worse in pregnancy mode – that's got to be hormonal hell!"

Mac bit back a laugh and looked in surprise at Harm. His eyebrow rose as he returned her expression, with a shrug of his shoulders as he folded his arms. This was her favorite stance of his, deceptively casual, but she knew very well his mind was ticking over.

"What?" she blurted out, dropping her gaze briefly and then raising her head again to look straight at him. "I was just curious, that's all, as to how you would know so much about a woman…" Mac suddenly realized what she had actually said, and a touch of heat rose in her cheeks. Harm noticed immediately – he always did – and he gave her his perpetual smile.

"Oh? And how do you think I know so much about women? Or their monthly habits, for that matter?"

"Forget I said that, please?" Mac dropped her head again and feigned looking for a file. As she scattered more papers in an effort to look busy, she was unaware of Harm's actions until he leaned over her desk and waited for her to look up at him. When she thought he was going to pursue the line of thought she had started, he completely threw her with his next words.

"Sturgis has invited us to join him and Varese for dinner. Would you like to come?"

"To see…Varese…Sturgis?" Mac stuttered, and then regained control of her tongue. "Sturgis invited you," she managed to keep her voice even, and the blush out of her cheeks as she answered.

"Sturgis asked me to ask you. He's in court all morning."

"Are you sure?" Please, say yes! she begged silently.

"I wouldn't ask otherwise, Mac." Please say yes! he pleaded.

"Okay. When?"

"Tomorrow night. I could pick you up. It's nearer to your place."

"All right. Confirm it with Sturgis, will you?"

Mac waited for Harm's response, and when he nodded and hit her with his smile again, she was grateful she was already seated, or she would have dropped like a stone into an ungraceful heap.

"See you later, Mac."

"Yeah, see you later." Mac returned his words as she spotted Harriet heading for her doorway. Getting to her feet, and resting her fingers on the desk surface as she tested her legs, she got ready to greet her friend. "Harriet! It's lovely to see you! Here, have a seat and rest yourself."

"Ooh, thanks, Mac. I've only made the trip from the house to JAG, but I'm shattered already!"

"How are things? I'm sorry I've been so busy around here that I've been unable to come out to the house to see you all."

"The new JAG is keeping you quite busy, or so Bud tells me," Harriet returned, smiling widely at Mac, guileless in her expression, but Mac knew there was something on her friend's mind.

"Yes. General Cresswell is putting us all through our paces to find out how he relates to us all."

"And what has he decided about you and Harm?" Harriet enquired gently, tipping her head on one side.

"What do you mean by that, Harriet?"

"AJ gave you a lot of leeway, we all know that. Do you think Cresswell will do the same?"

"I…don't honestly know," Mac admitted, realizing it was foolish to try and distract Harriet. "What I do know is that you are looking wonderful, and I am jealous."

"Jealous that I'm pregnant?" Harriet retorted, eyeing Mac carefully. That statement was loaded if ever she had heard one.

"Jealous that you look so well," Mac amended, heading off the subject of pregnancy. In her mind she went back to the night of the Admiral's Dining Out, and the fact that Harm had still offered her the chance of a child. His child. With him.

"There's still time, Mac. We just need to get Harm motivated."

"Harriet!" Mac called out, in shock and surprise, and some guilt – she had been thinking the same thing about Harm herself. How to get him motivated to help her.

Harriet was unrepentant. "What? I was talking about the show."

"Show? What show?" Mac was confused. Surely Harriet had just been talking about getting Harm motivated to make a move on her! Hadn't she? Where on earth had the subject of a show popped up from?

"I was telling you about the show I'm organizing."

"Oh. I thought you were talking about Harm, and me…"

"That was a few sentences ago, Mac. Where have you been?" Harriet chided as she pushed her somewhat immense bulk out of the chair. Mac got to her feet and came to help.

"Don't worry. You won't have to do anything. I've got it all organized this time, and it will go like clockwork. All you have to do is turn up and enjoy yourself." With a cheery wave Harriet was gone, and Mac was left looking somewhat dazed. It was Harm's comment that she was catching flies that brought her lips together in a quick move. Sometimes she wished Sturgis hadn't swapped offices with Harm. But then, at other times, she was glad he had. It meant she had her Flyboy in full view when she needed to reassure herself he was still there. Her Flyboy? Mac groaned. This was only Monday! What was the rest of the week going to be like?

Tuesday Evening – Somewhere in Georgetown

The two couples sat around the table in the intimate setting of a dinner/dance club. Mac sat next to Harm on her left, with Sturgis on her right, and Varese opposite, between Sturgis and Harm. They were waiting for their coffees, and listening to the music that had played during their meal. Varese confirmed that the club was well-known to her as a venue for her shows, but that on this evening she was there as a patron only, out with friends. Mac and Harm were totally at ease with each other, and with both Sturgis and Varese, and the camaraderie they shared wasn't lost on Sturgis, nor on Varese. Sturgis had told her some of what his friends had been through, both together and apart, and Varese had come to her own conclusions about the pair of them, and when she had told Sturgis he was astounded at how close to the mark she was.

Now, as they laughed over some shared news, Varese made to excuse herself from the table to visit the ladies' room, and Mac rose to go with her. As the two women left the table, Sturgis leaned over to talk to Harm.

"So, I see you two are on good terms again."

Harm grinned, and nodded. "I think so. I love her, and she tolerates me."

"You love her?" Sturgis sat back in his seat, and Harm winked at him.

"Oh, come on Sturgis! You're the one who's told us to work it out between ourselves a number of times. Well, we've managed to return to some sort of good working friendship. The only difference is, now, I've finally realized how much I do love Mac."

"Why do you think she only tolerates you?"

"Because I haven't told her I love her. I think she's still tied up over Webb."

"I see…" Sturgis was about to say something more, but he caught sight of Mac and Varese returning to the table.

"Ladies…" Harm murmured, as both he and Sturgis rose at their return. Both Mac and Varese seated themselves and said 'thank you' to their attentive escorts. For Mac, Harm's attentiveness was nothing new – he had always been a gentleman when they had been 'out' together officially, and even on casual occasions he would open doors, and pull out chairs. It was second nature, an innate sense of courtesy that she had never been able to fault him on. What was different this time was the way he touched the small of her back as he ushered her through a door, or seated her in a chair. That was something he hadn't done for a long time. Since the time in Sydney, they hadn't had much occasion to be together in a setting like this, and Mac was beginning to find herself wondering just what Harm was thinking. What he was up to.

"If you'll excuse me one moment, I just need to pick up something from the office, then we can leave." Varese excused herself, and then returned almost as quickly with a sheaf of papers in her hand.

"What is that?" asked Sturgis, reaching to take the papers from Varese, who handed them over good-naturedly.

"It's a new song I need to work on. It's a duet, and I promised to get the lyrics to Harriet."

"Harriet's going to sing? In her condition?" Harm blurted out, and three pairs of eyes swung around on him in surprise, and amusement. Varese decided to put him out of his misery.

"No. Harriet's set the ball rolling for new ideas for fundraising, and I suggested singing a duet with someone, here in the club. Rather than have Harriet organize one big function, given her 'condition' as you put it, Harm," Varese teased, "it has been suggested that if there are a number of smaller events that raise the money, and then it is pooled and counted at the end of the month, before the Christmas festivities, so the money can be used for Christmas gifts and decorations, food, etcetera."

"That's a wonderful idea, Varese. What is it you're going to be singing?"

"More interesting, who are you going to be singing with?" Sturgis queried, a little miffed. Varese noted his tone and stroked his arm.

"Don't worry, baby," Varese murmured, and Harm raised an eyebrow in amusement, looking at Sturgis, who scowled at him and turned his gaze back on Varese. "This song is a duet between two women. It was performed by Barbra Streisand and Celine Dion not long ago, and it is has beautiful lyrics."

Mac smiled as she realized the song Varese had in her hand was one she had grown very fond of herself, and even had a copy in her collection. It was one she actually played continuously, and would sing along to. "Tell him…" she murmured, and Varese smiled in acknowledgement, as Harm – totally clueless – said "Tell him what? Tell who?"

"The song, Harm. It's called 'Tell him…'"

Dare I continue?