Title: In A Garden

Chapter Thirteen

By: LizD

Written: February 2004

Disclaimers: No disrespect to JAG's cast, crew or creators. With love and thanks.

A Garden – Part 13

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Mac made her way down the hall of Saint Elizabeth's Regional Medical Center with a fresh cup of coffee in her hand. That was six in as many hours. The Halloween decorations at the nurse's station reminded her that she needed to finish Hailey's costume and the hundred or so other things that were left on hold. Listing out the chores she had left on hold kept her focused and not frantic about the man in the next room.

She had arrived in Lincoln as quickly as she could after she got the call from the FBI. Alan and his partner had been shot during an arrest that went south. When she arrived he was going back into surgery. They couldn't stop the bleeding. Several hours later he survived the second surgery but was still very critical. She had been allowed to see him, but he had no idea that she was there. She couldn't take the beeping of the machines so she took to pacing the halls.

The partner, Jack Quincy, told Mac that Alan and he had gotten a line on James Boulder. He was on the ten most wanted list in Omaha and it would have been a major coup for both Alan and Jack to have caught him and brought him in – hence the reason for no back up. Unfortunately the situation got out of control quickly, Alan was shot in the chest. Jackson was shot twice, in the shoulder and leg, but he would be fine. Then Boulder tried to escape in their car, hit a tree and apparently died of a heart attack at the scene. All in all, it was not a by-the-book arrest. And there would be hell to pay, if Alan lived. But they got their man.

When the listing of chores was done, Mac found herself replaying the conversations she had had with Alan over the past month in her head. He would be mean and nasty and continued to duck the question as to when he would sign the divorce papers. She never saw that jealous side of him before. Her relationship with Harm really brought out Alan's dark side. It was a double standard but Mac kept at him. It was getting to be a semi-weekly phone call, but there was nothing else she could do. She looked down at her left hand at the little diamond that shone there. She was properly motivated to push the divorce through. She felt her tears welling up. Yes, she wanted a divorce from Alan, but she did not want him dead. She had loved him once – and loved him still, in a different way.

"How is he doing?" a woman's voice pulled Mac back to the hallway with the black cats and witches on the walls.

Mac looked up into a very pretty, very young woman's face. The woman was nervous and scared and obviously had been crying.

"The doctors are not saying much."

Mac had never met the woman, but she assumed that she was Alan's latest girlfriend. She had the look that Alan liked: flowy blonde locks, lots of make up, small framed, kind of helpless in a girly sort of way. Mac always wondered why he picked her to marry. She was none of those things.

She looked toward the room where Alan lay. "But they are trying to stay positive."

"Thank you, Mrs. Shea." The girl started to walk away.

Mac was surprised to hear that name. She had never changed her name when she married Alan, and no one had ever called her that.

"Please, call me Mac. And you are?"

The young woman looked back at Mac, confused by her generosity. "I am Shelly, Shelly Pendergrast."

"Shelly, would you like to sit with him?"

"Do you know who I am?" shelly asked.

"I assume that you and Alan are involved."

"We were planning on getting married," her eyed turned cold. "When the divorce is finalized." The snideness in her voice was clear as a bell.

Mac was unsure how she was supposed to respond to that news. Should she tell Shelly that Alan was the one holding up the divorce for reasons of his own? No. There was no need to inflict that kind of mean spiritedness on an innocent child or to speak badly of a man who could be dying.

"Then please, go sit with him." Mac stood and directed her into Alan's room. It was clear that Shelly really did care about him, but then again, in someone that young, love takes hold very quickly and very deeply. Mac remembered the pain of realization when it all ends, she wouldn't wish that on anyone, but it was a part of growing up. She was grateful that she would never feel that depth of loss again – but there were so many other pains that life had to offer with only a few lasting joys.

Mac went back to her pacing the halls and when that got too confining she went outside to walk the grounds.

"Sarah," the voice she had been hoping against hope to hear called to her from the parking lot. "Sarah."

She turned and there he was, headed toward her. She hadn't realized how much she actually needed him until he was right there. She nearly ran into his ready embrace. He wrapped her up tightly and let her use him for support.

After a long moment she pulled back and turned away to wipe her eyes. Harm would not let her go.

"Thank you for coming."

"Got here as soon as I could," he was still dressed in his flight gear. Apparently he pulled a few strings, how typical. "How is he?" he asked.

Mac shook her head. "I don't know. The doctors are not telling me much other than the fact that he is still alive is a good sign," she shivered. She had left her coat in Alan's room and had not wanted to disturb Shelly to get it.

"How are you?" he said draping his flight jacket around her shoulders.

"Better, now that you are here," she leaned back into his embrace, which he welcomed for selfish reasons.

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It was just over a month since they had that interaction at his office where she forced him to propose – at least that is how he looked at it – and then adroitly avoided the answer with a 'we need to talk about that - alone'. The alone part was great. The alone part was more than great.

Mac had left Hailey was with AJ and Meredith. Since Alan had left that last time, it had slowly become a regular thing for Hailey to be with the Chegwiddens. AJ Chegwidden was a great grandfather – rather he was born to be a grandfather or uncle or the godfather that he was to Hailey. Mac was tentative about leaving Hailey with AJ alone at first, preferring when Meredith was there to share the task. Mac still looked at him as her gruff, hardnosed, commanding officer with no 'soft side', time or interest for little girls. It was not true. AJ loved Hailey and had asked, on several occasions, to take her during the day while both Mac and Meredith were at work. It became a regular thing which saved Mac not only money, but also piece of mind. She knew that her daughter was in the care of someone who loved her.

She still felt like she was imposing until she got the: "Colonel, do you believe that I am the kind of man that would allow myself to be taken advantage of?"

"No, sir," she felt herself snapping to attention.

"Then take me at my word."

"Yes, sir."

AJ and Little Miss Hailey had standing dates on Monday, Wednesday and every other Friday. He was not always the best influence on her (taught her some words that the mother wished she didn't know), but they did enjoy each other's company and Hailey was always full of juice when she returned from a day with AJ.

On the morning that Mac received Harm's e-mail, it was one of the every-other Fridays and she asked the admiral to keep Hailey overnight. AJ was privy – through Meredith – of Mac and Harm's re-blooming relationship and the problems that confronted them.

"Overnight colonel?" he barked in his admiral tone. He loved that he could still command respect from a woman he looked on as one of his very dearest friends.

"Yes sir. There is something that I need to take care of and I don't know how long it will take. Not more than fifteen - eighteen hours I should think."

"Will this require leaving town?"

"Yes, sir," Mac got worried that he would not be able to do it. "Is that acceptable, sir?"

"More than, colonel," he smiled. "Take the weekend – resolve your issues. Do I make myself understood?"

"Perfectly, sir."

"Say hello to Rabb for me," he said quickly before he hung up the phone.

So there she was. On a Friday afternoon, free for the whole weekend with a man who had just proposed marriage to her. What was she to do? She did what any red blooded American woman would do who had been waiting for said proposal for – well let's face it – close to thirteen years? She toyed with him. She savored it. She milked it. She made him repeat the question – a number of times. GO MAC!

Harm took Mac directly to the new house. It was somewhat less grandiose than the last one: small and barren of everything other than the bare essentials of furniture.

"This house could use a woman's touch," she said when he carried her over the threshold.

"You can put your hands on anything you want to – as long as I am first."

That was all she wrote – for both of them the future was from that moment to several hours away – and not nothing and not no one was going to keep them from it. The only thing resolved - verbally - in that bed was that the 'visits' – east or west – were going to have to be more regular. That was unanimous.

Dusk came and Harm needed to pick up David and Zander, but he also needed more time alone with Mac. She had yet to answer his question nor had they had a chance to talk about it. He called Mrs. Johnson and asked her to keep the boys late. Not knowing why, but Mrs. Johnson offered to keep them over night. Harm was reluctant, but she assured him that Mariana would be there to help. He looked back at Mac, asleep on the bed and agreed.

He woke her slowly but would not allow her advances.

"We have all night, marine."

"We do?"

"The boys are staying with Mrs. Johnson."

She slid over next to him and was trying to get him 'back in the mood'.

He pulled away and got up. "We need to talk."

"Is this bad?" she cooed at him, disappointed at his distance.

"No. Not bad, but we need to talk. You haven't answered my question and depending upon that answer we may have some other things to discuss."

She sat up and pulled the sheet up around her. "If we are going to talk seriously about this, then I need to be dressed."

He pulled a t-shirt and some shorts from his drawer and tossed them to her. "Can't find my sweatshirt," he said absentmindedly.

She laughed. "It is on the chair in my room."

He looked confused and then realized she had stolen it from him. "I see, next to my ring I suppose," he pulled on some boxers and rejoined her on the bed.

"No, that is safe with me at all times," she tried to kiss him, but he pulled away.

"Sarah."

"Harm, I can't answer that question – not right now – I am not a liberty to give the answer I want to give."

"This is not a court, MacKenzie. There is no one here but you and me. Assume that all other issues can be worked out – what do you say."

"Before I answer we have a few other things to discuss."

"Such as?"

"Are you going to expect me to cook and clean for you?" she grinned.

"You cook? And clean? Are you kidding?"

"Will I have to quit my job?"

"Will you be serious?"

"What about children?"

"Do you mean – are you expected to stay barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen where you – a female – belongs? I think you know me better than that."

She got very serious very quickly. "Do you want more – do your expect to have more?"

"Sarah – please – I don't 'expect' anything at all."

"Do you want to have another child?" she was near tears. It was very difficult for her to bring this subject up.

Harm softened and spoke very gently to her. "Would I like to see you pregnant with our child and to get to know all the changes that your body would go through intimately? Would I want to take care of you and prepare for a child of ours conceived in love? Would I like to experience the birth and the raising of that child with its mother – a woman I love beyond distraction? Simple answer, yes. If for some reason we could not or did not have a child of our own, would I be disappointed?" he thought for a moment. "Yes. Is it a deal breaker? No. Not at all."

She was touched by his honesty and flabbergasted. This is a man who would never use the L word if his life depended upon it, and now you couldn't get him to shut up about it.

"What about you?" he asked carefully.

"I would love to have your baby, to give Hailey a sister or brother, but … I terrified about risking another pregnancy. I cannot say right now if I would be willing to go through that again," her eyes filled with tears, she knew how much this might be hurting him and she was very keen on how much this was hurting her. "And I know that I can't ask you to give up -."

"Hey," he wrapped his arms around her. "Your honesty is all I ask for."

"Harm."

"Sarah, I won't placate you and tell you that nothing like that would or could ever happen again – not to us – not even if I believed that to be true. But, until we are ready – together – as a couple – to have another child, that is when this discussion needs to take place. And not before. It is too soon to discuss this – to soon for you most definitely and way too soon for us."

"So you wouldn't mind if we didn't?"

"I wouldn't mind if we tabled this particular topic and dealt with it at a better time knowing now that the answer could go either way."

She smiled up at him after a moment. "That was the hard one."

"I know," he kissed her forehead.

"Living arrangements."

"That is a big hurdle for us."

"A three thousand mile hurdle."

"So do I move east – or you west – or do we pick a neutral location and start again?"

"San Diego is nice," she admitted.

"Virginia has its advantages," he countered.

"I could ask for a transfer but we don't have to set up housekeeping, do we?"

That comment stunned Harm. He was not even considering that they not live together. "Oh, I see."

"Harm, don't take that wrong."

"How could I take it right?"

"I just think - ."

"You want to uproot one family so that we could live near each other so we can 'date' after all this time."

"You see that is the problem – it always was the problem – it was all or nothing with you."

"You too."

"I don't remember it that way."

"I am sure you don't remember a lot about what I saw back then."

"I don't want to fight about this."

"I don't either – I particularly don't want to fight about what happened a life time ago."

"You won't consider it?"

"You want me to consider moving my boys back to Virginia, finding a job and having dates with you on Friday nights? Nice, safe, Friday night dates? Dinner and a movie, home by 11:30?"

"I wasn't thinking - ."

"No, clearly not."

"You can lose that attitude, sailor!" she snapped.

"Mac, I asked you to marry me and you are suggesting that we can date?"

"Harm."

"No, no – honey. We are way past that. You need to answer the question and we will work out the details when you say 'yes' - not the other way around."

She sighed again. "I am not a liberty to answer that question."

He ran his tongue over his teeth; he was becoming annoyed. "You blasted me for being unclear and not stating my true feelings – so what exactly are you doing?"

"I am still married."

"Are you? Are you really? Are you still in love with your husband? Are you still holding out hope that the two of you can work it out? Am I just an itch that you had to scratch from the years of flirting we did? Are you just biding your time until the real thing comes a long?"

"Harm – stop it. I am not a liberty to answer that question the way I want to. If I said yes, what would be different?"

"Any number of things – most importantly I would know how you feel about me and what your intentions are."

"I love you – haven't I made that clear?"

"Apparently not."

"I can't ask you to wait until I don't know when."

"Do you honestly think if Alan drags this out for six months or a year or longer that I would lose interest?"

"I don't know."

"Would you?"

"No."

"Answer the question, Sarah."

"Harm we can't live together while I have this thing hanging over my head. So what difference does it make?"

"It makes a world of difference to me. Will you or will you not marry me? Yes or no."

She looked at him. He was serious. He wanted an answer and he wanted it then. She could brook no argument. "Yes."

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Hours later, sitting in the hallway of the hospital, Harm asked gently, "When was the last time you ate anything?"

"I'm not hungry."

"That was not my question."

"I just need some coffee."

"You've had too much coffee – you are about to jump out of your skin."

The doctor approached.

"Colonel MacKenzie?"

They stood immediately. "He is awake now, but very weak. He is asking for you."

"Alright."

"Please don't stress him too much."

Mac agreed and went into the room. Harm looked over at Shelly. Mac had told him about her and he kept his comments to himself. He did feel sorry for the poor girl.

In the room Mac was standing next to him so he could see her face.

"Alan?" he looked like he was asleep.

He looked up at her and tried to smile. "Hi."

"The doctors think you will be just fine. But you need your rest."

He nodded and moved his hand over to take hers. "Sorry," he was able to squeak out.

"No, please. Just rest and get your strength back."

"Hailey?"

"She's fine – home with AJ and Meredith. She misses you, and she wants to see you – as soon as you are better."

His fingers found the ring on her hand and he let go. Mac's face washed with sadness, she had meant to take it off before she saw him.

"You happy?" he asked.

"When you are better, I will be happy."

"Happy with him?"

Mac nodded.

"Rabb here?" he asked.

Mac nodded.

"See him."

Mac shook her head 'no'.

"I want to see him."

She relented when he looked agitated at her 'no'.

She waved through the window for Harm to come in. He did reluctantly.

Alan lifted his hand to Harm. "Alan Shea," he said with as much strength as he could muster.

"Harmon Rabb," he said taking the man's hand.

"Take care of her."

"As much as she will let me," Harm answered.

Alan smiled. He knew how difficult Mac could be sometimes – how independent and headstrong. He nodded and released Harm's hand.

"Sleep now." Alan closed his eyes and Harm left. Mac stayed with him a little longer until the nurse suggested that she wait outside.

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Harm went home that afternoon. Mac stayed another day until she was sure that Alan was on the road to recovery. They didn't talk much; Mac gave most of the visitor time to Shelly.

A week later, Mac got the divorce papers in the mail. Signed, sealed and delivered. She was free.