Title: In A Garden

Chapter Eighteen

By: LizD

Written: February 2004

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

A Garden – Part 18

X x X x X x X x X x X x X x X x X x X x X x X x X x

The next time Harm and Mac saw each other was two weeks later on Thanksgiving weekend. It was going to be a working weekend. Mac had arrived in San Diego very late Wednesday night (three hours later for her) after working all-day and dropping Hailey off with Alan for the holiday. She was still working at JAG. She would stay through January first. By then the review board should have finished their review and she would know if she got the position at the Pentagon or she would be shipped off somewhere else. She had met with General Weston and was really looking forward to working with him.

Caitland Pike was given the position in San Diego. Mac was not too thrilled that Kate – another Kate – the original Kate – would be in Harm's area code, but after all that time she could not allow herself to be jealous or untrusting. At least that was what she told herself – repeatedly. Harm, of course, played it just right. Baited her just enough to set the hook, let her run with it just a little and then said something incredibly sticky sweet to reel her back in. She fell for it every time.

Harm and Mac prepared Thanksgiving dinner for the four of them, the Roberts clan (their house was in shambles getting ready for the move), Mrs. and Mariana Johnson and Kate Pike. It was a full house. Mac was in charge of the Turkey and anything meat related (like stuffing and gravy) and Harm took care of everything else. It was a very nice day and though neither one outwardly acknowledged it – Harm and Mac made a great team and had a wonderful time playing host.

It was nearly 2200. Harm sat at his kitchen table with the case files for the Lawson's murder spread out in front of him. The trial started Monday morning, so Harm had the long weekend to pull a rabbit out of his hat. With Mac's help he was hoping to do just that. It wasn't the first time he had looked through the information, it wasn't even the second or third, but he couldn't help shake the notion that the way to prove that Linda didn't kill her father was buried some where in those files. He still wasn't sure if he believed that she was not guilty or if he just wanted her to be not guilty, but it didn't matter. He needed to help.

Mac walked back into the kitchen. She had taken a shower to wash off the day of cooking and cleaning and to give her a little more energy to get through the next couple of hours.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"Much," she stretched. "Now I know the true meaning of Thanksgiving."

"Thankful for that new shower head I installed?"

"And the larger water heater," she ran her hand through her hair one more time. "Gotta get me one of those," she smiled.

He looked over at her as she poured herself another cup of coffee. Her hair was slicked back, and her make up was off. She was wearing a pair of his sweat pants, which filled out curvier through the hips and bunched in large puddles at her ankles and his Navy sweatshirt – which (one could argue) was now HER Navy sweatshirt. He could not help but smile.

She noticed and looked down at herself. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Come on, what?"

"Every time I see you in that sweatshirt it makes me want to jump you."

"Yeah, cause this is so sexy," she struck a pose, which – shall we say – broadened the "NAVY"'s appeal.

"Now you're playing with fire," he was up in a second and had her pinned against the counter. He got very close to her but did not touch her. He inhaled deeply. "You smell great."

"New shampoo."

He leaned into kiss her but again got close without touching her.

"Thought you wanted to get some more work done," she asked coyly.

"I think it's time for a break,"

"I just had one – maybe you need a cold shower," she smiled up at him and let her lips lightly touch his just before she ducked under his arm was resumed her position at the table.

"They have names for women like you."

"Careful there, sailor. Don't want to lose your objective by speaking out of turn."

"And net me a night on the sofa?" he leaned against the counter in defeat.

"Ya know Harm, I have always heard that couples should never go to bed angry."

"So you are saying that you will never banish me to the couch?"

"Not if you make nice before bedtime."

He came up behind her and started nuzzling her neck. "Isn't that what I was trying to do?"

"Lets get a couple more hours done tonight and then --."

"Hours?"

"Monday morning is going to come pretty quickly," she took his hands off of her. "And … I don't know how to tell you this."

"What?"

"You smell like sweet potatoes. Old, dirty, sweet potatoes."

"Well that's what happens when someone – who shall remain nameless – doesn't lock the top down on the food processor before she turns it on."

"I was only trying to help," she laughed. "You are going to be cleaning sweet potatoes out of the walls for years."

"Not me," he kissed her quickly. "I'm moving. Let the new owners worry about it."

She nodded. "You still smell like sweet potatoes."

"OK, OK. I'll take a shower – it will have to be cold – you probably used up all the hot water,"

His 'goodbye' kiss required that she kiss him back and it nearly made her change her mind about working for a couple more hours.

Mac was left alone and started sorting through the files. She liked that they were working together (in spite of the content). She liked that they were easy and playful with each other. One thing about Alan was that he was always too serious. He would have gone through the roof if she had made a mess like that with him, particularly if they had guests coming. It would have ruined the entire day – heck probably the weekend.

As she sorted through the information again, she was beginning to see what Harm saw. There were too many unanswered questions and too much time unaccounted for. Harm had conducted interviews – unofficially – with a number of people, which actually netted them more information than a lawyer would normally get. He talked to the maid, the gardener, and the driver, all of who had the night off conveniently enough. It took him a while but he was finally able to locate the girlfriend, the bimbo with the toys – Candi Landis. Mac remembered when he told her about that interview.

"Her name is Candi Landis?" Mac asked.

"Yeah – so?"

"Candi Landis – Candyland – is she a porn star?"

"She could be," Harm was distracted. "Those can't be real,"

"You are looking at her picture, aren't you?"

"It is in her file," he defended.

"Was it pulled from Playboy or Hustler?"

"Oui – I think," he made an odd noise in the back of his throat and said softly. "Whoa - I am not sure that is anatomically possible."

"Put it away, Harm."

"What?" he was still distracted and a dead silence filled the phone line.

"Rabb – should I leave you two alone?"

He laughed. "Oh, baby, don't you know you have ruined other women for me even the two dimensional ones?"

She smiled and shook her head. "Nice recovery," she sighed. "Don't call me 'baby'."

The file did have pictures. Miss Candi Landis was a very sexy woman and she probably did go 'under the knife' to have improvements made, but the pictures were her mug shot, a candid by the pool with Linda and a couple of freeze frames from the security camera at the Lawson estate.

Mac shook her head remembering his comments and put the file aside.

The file actually fell to the floor and the papers spilled out. As she was re-stuffing them back into the folder, she came across a thick envelope that was tucked under a stack of files on the floor. It was addressed to Harm with an address label of Lawson Enterprises. It was marked PERSONAL and URGENT with a postmark date of two days after Lawson's murder. Mac thought about waiting for him to ask what it was, but thought again and pulled out the files.

There was no note. It contained copies of Linda's medical records from the time she was thirteen. Mac read through the files, it appeared that Linda had attempted suicide several times before she was eighteen, was in an out of hospitals and had been under the care of various psychiatrists. She had had three abortions: one at seventeen, one at twenty-one and one at twenty-seven and two miscarriages: at thirty and thirty-one. There was a large gap in the records. Then next entries weren't until she was thirty-six when she got pregnant with the twins. That's where the records stop.

In another folder was a list of what had to be bank transactions all for very large amounts. Mac did a quick sum and came up with close to a three and a half million dollars paid in various amounts to various people over nearly a twenty year period. The name Sean O'Dae came up on the list several times starting in 1985 and the last one was in July of 2006. There was also a payment made to Harm in April of 2006 for $250,000. Mac couldn't be sure, but she thought the date was the same day as his wedding day.

She was never expecting to find what she found in the last folder. It shocked her. She must have reread it three times before it really sank in. Harm was still in the shower, but she needed to speak with him about it. She went to the bedroom to wait for him to come out.

Harm entered moments later. He had a towel wrapped around him and was drying his hair with another. Mac was sitting cross-legged on the bed with the file closed in front of her. She had been struggling with what she was going to say and how she was going to contain her confusion and anger.

"Miss me," he said delighted to have her waiting for him.

"We need to talk," was her constrained answer.

He looked down at the file and knew what it was immediately. "I guess we do," he turned away and pulled on his sweats. "Can we do this calmly and rationally? I don't want the boys to overhear this."

"Let's go back to the kitchen," she avoided the question.

He led the way and she followed. He took a position on the far side of the kitchen forcing her to stay standing in order to keep her voice down.

"You know what this is?" she held up the file.

He nodded.

"You have seen it before – before five months ago when it was mailed to you."

"I had not seen it before then."

"But you knew about it – you already knew what was in there."

He nodded.

"Who sent this to you?"

"I don't know. I assumed it was Lawson's lawyer."

"Why?"

"Probably wanted to keep it away from the police."

"I can see that. This is more than enough motive for you to have killed Lawson."

"I didn't kill him."

"I know that – but a case could be built on this evidence alone."

"I didn't kill him," he repeated.

"It is also very damaging to Linda."

"Yes, yes it is."

She was at a loss. His demeanor was so non-defensive. "Were you going to share this?"

"With you or with the prosecutor?"

"Either."

"No."

"You weren't going to tell me?"

"No."

"Never?"

"Never is a long time," he paused hoping that would be enough. It wasn't. "I had no plans of telling you."

"Harm we were going to get married."

"Going to?" Disappointment washed over him. "Oh Mac, don't do that. That – that," Referring to the file. "That is nothing. It is nothing. Please don't suggest that it is a deal breaker for us."

"Harm, you lied to me," she stated as if it were so obvious that to say it was silly. "You kept this from me. You would have married me and let me love and help raise those boys and never told me the truth."

"I told you the truth Mac," he looked like he was really trying to hold himself back. "I didn't lie to you any more than I lied to myself."

"That is exactly what you did – AND are doing."

"I don't see it that way."

"Harm, those boys are not yours."

He took two steps, put his hands firmly on her shoulders and got in her face. With ever ounce of control he stated flatly, "I don't ever what you to say that again."

She did not pull away from him nor did she back down. "It is the truth."

"A version of the truth, but not the truth," he let go of her and stepped back. "They are more mine than – than – than Linda's."

Mac was still at a loss. He was not acting as she would have expected him to act – namely caught. "Does she know?"

"I don't -," he shook his head. "I don't think so."

"How can you not know?"

"We did not have that kind of marriage, Mac. Hell, Lawson and I talked more than Linda and I did."

"I am at a total loss. I don't know what to say."

"What? What is there to say?"

"A lot – a lot more than the nothing you are giving me,"

"I am answering every question you have. I am not running from this," he stated triumphantly.

"Running? Well I guess you aren't running from me," she ran her hands through her hair again and turned away from him. "This is just so --- I don't know ---," she turned back and glared at him. "Not like you?"

"This is exactly like me. And you know it."

"So this just another example of Hero Harm to the rescue?" she stabbed at him.

"This is a hell of a lot more than that."

"You are saving those boys from their evil mother and grandfather?"

"Stop it," he stated.

"Then tell me what I am supposed to think," she pleaded.

"You are supposed to trust me."

"TRUST YOU? You lied to me."

"Keep your voice down," he walked passed her to go check on the boys. He was back in a moment. "Keep your voice down, please or we are going to have to table this until anther time."

"There is no other time for this Harm. We have to talk this through tonight."

Her conviction shook him. "Will you listen to me or have you already made up your mind?"

She exhaled and tried to calm herself. "I am here. I am listening."

He took a deep breath. "For six months I was living under the impression that Linda was having my baby. I hated her for getting pregnant on purpose – that is what she did – in my mind. We used protection, but that is not always 100%."

Mac looked away. She really did not want to imagine Harm needing protection with another woman.

"Anyway, that is what I told myself. She was very self-satisfied that I was forced to marry her. I took solace in the idea that I was finally going to have a child," he paused to remember. "It was a very lonely time," he looked into her eyes. "It was six months of hell if you really want to know the truth."

"I'm sorry,"

He shook his head and brushed her apology aside. "Then they were born – not one but two – and I was the only person they had in the world to protect them. They were little, defenseless and sick. I walked the floor in Neo-natal every night for six weeks praying to God or whoever would listen to let them be OK. Linda was nowhere. Walter was nowhere. It was me – all me. I was asking God to save my sons – MY sons," he nearly broke down.

Mac chose not to say anything but stepped closer to him.

Harm recovered. "He did. They were finally given the green light to go home – with ME," he emphasized the last word to make his point. "The night before I took them home from the hospital I was being given instructions. You wouldn't believe what I was expected to do, to know and to watch out for, but I was going to do whatever it took for them," he was frustrated and angry that he had to relive this scene from his past.

"I'm listening," she encouraged gently.

He took a deep breath. "I was given a copy of their medical records," he took another breath. "I have blood type O. Linda has O. The kids are type B. They were not mine," he said quickly and continued almost without taking a break. "It didn't take a rocket scientist or a DNA test to prove it. They were not mine – not biologically mine."

"That must have been devastating."

"You'll never know," he wiped his hands over his face. "It is probably the worst fear a man can have," he looked away and laughed. "That is of course before all the other fears set in."

"I'm sorry."

He again waved her apology away. "Not five months before I had seen the DNA test that said there was no-doubt of my paternity."

"Lawson?"

"Lawson," he looked away from her. "I went home and stayed up all night. I didn't know what to do. I had no one to call. No one to discuss it with and what would I say anyway?" he looked back. "Remember when I told you that I struggled with being a father? That I wanted to run away. Get away?"

She nodded remembering that day in the hospital.

"I now had my chance. I could have and probably should have walked away. How pathetic I was. I had quit the Navy for Linda, I married her – a woman I didn't like with a father I loathed and then I discovered that they saddled me with two children who weren't biologically mine. I was some pathetic fool."

She took another step closer. "I don't see you like that."

"Well I did," he shot back at her. "I spend all night running over every possible scenario in my head a hundred times over. It boiled down to this – I loved those boys. I loved them more than I have ever loved anyone. In fact up until that night I didn't know what love meant."

Mac looked away.

"Up until that night I didn't know the sacrifices I would make for - - - for them. To be with them? There was nothing I wouldn't do."

She looked back and saw an intensity firmly planted in maturity that she had never seen before.

"Listen to me. Choosing to love them and be their father was the most profound feeling I have ever had. It was no longer MY MISTAKE that I had to atone for. This was no longer a responsibility that was foisted on me. I may have been duped, but I was not going to let it ruin my life or the lives of those boys. I walked into it with my eyes wide open."

"That is a huge responsibility."

"I took it on – all by myself."

Mac stayed quiet for a long moment. "Did you confront Lawson or Linda?"

"No. As I said, I don't know if Linda knows – she may, but I don't know. We never talked about it. As for Lawson, no – I never said a word – though he probably would have pulled this out during the custody trial."

"That is the motive I was talking about."

"I didn't kill him."

"What about the father – the biological father? Do you know who he is?"

"Yes," he nodded to the folder. "His name is Sean O'Dae."

"I meant; do you know him?"

"We met, briefly."

"Who is he?" she asked gently.

"He was – obviously Linda's lover, but he worked for Lawson for nearly ten - fifteen years as his personal assistant."

"Doesn't he have the right to know his children?"

"He doesn't want them," he stated.

"How do you know?"

"I know."

"You spoke to him about this?"

Harm took another deep breath before he spoke. "He came to the hospital after they were born. He introduced himself and told me that he had loved Linda for nearly ten years but that it would never work out for them. He had to walk away," Harm looked Mac in the eyes. "I knew exactly how he felt."

She pulled a sad smile and nodded for him to continue.

"He looked at both the boys – I thought he was envying me being the father of her children. Then he said something that I didn't quite understand until later."

"What did he say?"

"He said, 'Be a good father to your sons – be a better father than I could be.' Then he shook my hand and walked away."

Mac opened the folder and looked down to see that a payment in the amount of $500,000 was transferred to Sean O'Dae three days after the twins were born. "He sold his rights to his kids to Lawson," she stated.

Harm nodded. "That's how it would appear."

"Where is he now?"

"Out of the country. He is wanted on five counts of securities fraud, insider trading – you name it."

"I thought he was his personal assistant."

"O'Dae knew more about Lawson and Lawson's business practices than Lawson did. He was just not very smart about it. I am sure most of the payments made to him were bribes or pay offs of some kind. Mostly to keep him away from Linda."

"Could O'Dae have killed Lawson?"

"I don't see how – he is not in the country. Bolivia I think."

Mac shook her head and walked back to the kitchen table to try to digest all this information. Harm gave her a moment before he joined her.

"Sarah?"

"I don't know what to think or how to feel about all of that."

"I understand it is quite a shock." After a moment of her silence he asked, "Do you see that there really was nothing else I could do?"

"I don't know that – not for sure. I wasn't there and I don't understand people like Linda, Lawson or O'Dae."

"They are definitely in a league of their own."

"How did you get mixed up in all of this?"

"Same old story - wrong place at the wrong time. But you know what? Even if I knew then what I know now – I would do it again. Those kids are my world."

She reached out and took his hand. "I know you love them."

He waited again for her to speak, but she didn't. "Sarah, please – I don't want to lose you over this. Legally those boys are mine. It is my name on their birth certificates."

She shook her head. It wasn't enough.

"I haven't done anything wrong," he pleaded.

She pulled her hand away and looked into his face. "Harm, you lied to me. That is what you did wrong. You lied to me."

"I am sorry you see it that way."

"Do you know why you didn't tell me?"

He shook his head.

"Did you think that I would not understand? Not support you? Did you think that I would think less of you?"

"I don't know – maybe – yes, maybe all of those things. Maybe I didn't tell you because to tell you would have given credence to the whole thing," he shook his head and looked over at her. "Are we through? I can't talk about this anymore – at least not tonight. Can we please just let it go for right now?"

Mac felt her whole body tense. There he was. Harmon Rabb - the man who would rather deflect and ignore the hard stuff – was still alive and well and living in the man opposite her. "Sure," was all she managed to say.

"I am going to stay up for a little while longer," he stated. He was dismissing her.

"Ok," she said sadly and got up to leave.

He caught her hand before she left the room. "I'm sorry Sarah. I didn't intend to hurt you."

"You did – you did hurt me."

"I'm sorry."

Mac pulled her hand slowly away from his and left the room. Harm pretended to get back to work, but the papers blurred in front of him.

X x X x X x X x X x X x X x X x X x X x X x X x X x

For hours Mac tossed and turned. The house was quiet. There was still a soft light coming from the kitchen. Could Harm really be up working? Or was avoiding her? Or was he trying to give her some space?

She was hurt and it did shake the foundation of where she thought they had after all those years. Was the shake enough to bring the house down on top of them? Were they really built on that flimsy a foundation? After all this time, after what they each had been through would something like a lie – a lie of omission – even over something potentially devastating to them as a family really end them? He had said he didn't want to lose her over this, but could Mac really understand?

She did understand. Hell, she understood before she even asked him about it. She knew all about keeping secrets. There were things she would never tell him - painful, hurtful, horrible secrets that she would never tell anyone. Secrets that she barely acknowledged to herself. Does that mean she doesn't love him? Or that he shouldn't trust her? If he found out would he leave her over them? No. Not Harm. Harm would not leave her when she was in trouble, or over something that she had to do, as he had to keep quiet about the paternity of his children. She understood.

It was close to 0400 when she slipped out of bed. She found him standing in the boys' room, looking out on the moonlit night holding a model F14 in his hand. How he had grown and changed, she thought. There was a time when flying a plane was all he wanted to do. There was a time when doing the right thing meant being the hero, risking his life and saving the world or just some damsel in distress from certain destruction. Now he was a hero of a different kind. Now he was a father. And a good one too boot.

Mac entered the room quietly but he still felt her. He turned and watched her check on the boys and adjust their blankets. They were still so small and needed her woman's touch – her mother's touch. She came to him at the window and slipped her hand into his free one.

"Come to bed," she said softly and gave him a gentle pull toward the door.

He resisted enough so that she looked back at him. His face was questioning.

She shook her head to let him know that everything was fine – was going to be fine.

He let her lead him from the room, to their bed, to a few hours of sleep wrapped safely in each other's arms.