Title: At First

Note: I am a west-coast Canadian girl and proud of it. I haven't been to Washington since I was eight, so my knowledge of the area is seriously limited. Los Angeles I know, but La Jolla I don't, so I'm making everything up as I go along. My knowledge of Arizona is almost non-existant, and any details you see are made up. Katrina and her parents are my own creation. I don't know if Trish has siblings, but, in this story, she does. If I'm wrong, well, you'll just have to deal with it 'cause I need Harm to have Katrina.

Disclaimer: If I owned JAG, it's characters, or any of it, Harm and Mac would have gotten together a long time ago, AJ wouldn't have retired, and Meg never would have left... though I'm not sure how I would have worked Mac into the show without Meg leaving... Anyway, I own nothing.

Warnings: This story canabalizes from Mac and Harm's histories, but also changes them along the way. You'll see what I mean if you stick with me for a while.

Rating: PG-13, though rating subject to change in later chapters.

Expected Chapters: I have no idea how long this will be. The more replies I get the more I write. That's all there is to it.

Dedication: To my best friend for always being there for me and for encouraging me to put pen to paper. Or fingers to keyboard. Whatever.

San Diego, California

Beach House

July 1, 1975

Harmon Rabb Jr didn't mind wearing a suit. He didn't mind the tie. He didn't mind standing in front of his family and friends of his mother's and reciting the passage that he had been asked to read. The dress shoes pinched a little in the toes but he had known that his old ones wouldn't fit and still had refused to go shoe shopping so he knew better than to complain about that. He didn't mind the relatives pinching his cheeks and ruffling his hair, partially because he wasn't easily bothered by things like that and partially because he got a little bit of satisfaction that with each tousle of his hair a little more of the oppressive hair gel that had been combed through his dark hair was transferred onto someone's hand. And he loved that everyone was telling him that he was looking more and more like his father everyday.

What he couldn't stand was the fact that all of the minor annoyances came crashing together on a boiling hot Southern California day that just happened to be his mother's wedding day.

Second wedding day, Harm was quick to remind anyone who made the mistake of not qualifying this as Trish's second marriage.

Even though he wanted her to be happy—and he had to reluctantly admit that Frank did make his mother happy—Harm still maintained that the only good thing about his mother getting remarried was that he got to stay at Gran's farm in Pennsylvania while Trish and Frank went on their honeymoon—a concept that sickened the twelve year old boy.

Gran was his ally in anything and everything. She was the one he could turn to whenever he started to miss his father too much. She was the one he looked to for advice. She was the one he could admit anything to. Harm couldn't lie to his Grandma Sarah; she would take one look at him with her warm blue eyes and she would know the truth no matter how convincing he felt his lie was. They called each other all the time and wrote letters constantly. Visits were hard because he had school and she couldn't afford to fly from Pennsylvania to La Jolla more than once a year, twice if there was a special reason, but that just made them appreciate the time they did have together.

When Frank Burnett came into his mother's life, Harm felt lost. Seeing his mother fall in love was one of the most painful experiences of his life. He had never given up hope that his father was alive somewhere, that the fact that Harmon Rabb Sr was MIA and not confirmed dead meant that the six years since 'Hammer' had gone missing were just six years that he was being kept away from his family not six years that he was lying in some unmarked grave or well through the process of decomposition under half a decade of undergrowth in a jungle somewhere. Harm knew that his mother couldn't believe that his father might still be alive so that she could go on with her life, but he couldn't accept that. He needed proof before he would believe that his father was gone. And there was no way that he was going to let Frank Burnett be his father. He didn't even want to let him be his stepfather, but he knew it would hurt his mother more than anything to lose Frank. So, in deference to his mother's heart, he did as he was told, he read a mushy poem and stood proudly in his dark suit and tried not to cringe when the priest told Frank to kiss his bride and after the ceremony he danced with his mother and Gran and Nana, his maternal grandmother, and sat at the kids table and tried to pretend that he wasn't plotting his escape from what he was told would be the beginning of the rest of his life.

After the reception Harm said goodbye to his mom and shook Frank's hand without emotion and he watched them drive off before going to find Gran who was in the kitchen of the beachfront house Trish and Frank had bought a few months earlier.

"You did good, Harmon," Gran said, hugging her only grandson tightly. "I know how hard today was for you," she added.

"Why won't she believe that dad's not dead?" Harm asked. He had asked that question millions of times and he never got an answer that he felt was suitable.

This time was no different.

"Your mother needs to believe that your father is gone because she can't live her life wondering where he is," Gran said. "You shouldn't either," she said with a gentle smile.

His cousin, Katrina, came into the kitchen at that moment. She was twelve as well, two months older than Harm—a fact that she loved to rub in his face because it made her the oldest which, by kid law, made her the boss in almost every aspect of life—and she and Harm had spent a lot of time together, growing up like brother and sister. Her mother and Harm's were sisters and had lived within three miles of each other since moving out on their own.

"Hello, Katrina," Gran said with a warm smile.

"Hello, Mrs. Rabb," Katrina replied. Even though she had known Gran forever she couldn't seem to call her anything other than Mrs. Rabb, even with Gran's insistence that she at least call her Sarah because Mrs. Rabb made her feel old. "Harm, I know you're going to the farm while Auntie Trish is away, but mom's taking me to Arizona so I can see my friend from camp and I wanted to know if you wanted to come," Katrina said, turning to face Harm who was almost seven inches taller than her.

"I think that would be a wonderful trip," Gran said. "I didn't have enough time to get everything ready for you before coming here, Harmon. This would give me more time to prepare the kind of food that you like," she said with a warm smile. He hadn't eaten meat since he was three and was very vocal on the topic of eating 'disgusting dead animal'.

"Okay," Harm said somewhat reluctantly. He'd never been to Arizona and he wouldn't mind spending some more time with his cousin who was one of his best friends as well. "For how long?"

"A week," Katrina said, beaming brightly. "Oh, this is going to be so much fun!" she exclaimed, turning to tell her parents the news.

Harm, however, was somewhat less enthused.

Miami, Arizona

MacKenzie Residence

July 3, 1975

Sarah MacKenzie was eagerly awaiting the arrival of the girl she had met at a camp for children of people in the military the year before. Her hair had grown out after a disaster of an attempted haircut at her own hands and her mother had put her brown locks into two French braids with ribbons woven throughout. Her clothes weren't new but the jeans had flared bottoms with little plastic gems all over and the top had 'Marines' printed on it—a gift from her Uncle Matt for her last birthday. She had cleaned her room—something Sarah usually avoided because she already knew where everything was in the jumbled mess that was her little corner of the world—and had convinced her mother to bring a television up to her room so they could watch movies without disturbing her father.

She just prayed her father stayed on his best behaviour.

A rental car pulled up in front of the house and a second later Katrina jumped out, running up to the house. Sarah met her at the door and they hugged and squealed with joy. They talked rapidly, covering several months of their lives before Harm even got out of the car.

"Who's that?" Sarah asked, stopping in the middle of a story about dinosaur-track hunting with her Uncle Matt.

"That's my cousin, Harm. Remember, I told you he might be coming with me," Katrina said. "Harm, come on," she called, urging him over.

Sarah watched the tall boy cross the driveway gracefully. He was like the cat the neighbour had, every move deliberate, his bright eyes scanning the surroundings, taking everything in and processing it immediately for future reference. She couldn't help but think that he was like a Triceratops—her favourite dinosaur. Generally peaceable, kind and gentle, but dangerous if crossed, especially if he was defending the ones he loved. Sarah wasn't sure how she could tell this about him when she hadn't even spoken to the older boy, but she was positive that she was right.

"Hello. You must be Sarah," Harm said, smiling brightly. "I'm Harm."

"It's nice to meet you," Sarah said. She smiled when he extended his hand to her. She shook it firmly. "Kati couldn't stop talking about you last summer."

"Sarah, it's good to see you again," Cynthia Williams, Katrina's mother, said with a warm smile. "Harmon, could you help me with the bags?"

"Of course," Harm said, flashing his cousin and Sarah a brief smile before going off to do some heavy lifting. His own bag was really only an oversized backpack, but Katrina was not known for her restraint when it came to what to bring on trips. Harm often told her that she would never be able to join the Navy like he knew she wanted to unless she learned to pack only the bare essentials. Katrina always replied that she was only packing the bare essentials. At that point the stubbornness that they both had inherited from their mothers—though their fathers had also been compared to mules more than once—would kick in and they would go back and forth until they were pulled apart or until they found something better to do. Trish and Cynthia had always told them that they would make great lawyers one day but that they should go into practice together so they wouldn't end up fighting each other in the courtroom.

Katrina asked for directions to the bathroom and Sarah pointed her in the right direction before going over to help Harm. Cynthia had fallen into deep conversation with Sarah's mother, Deanna, leaving Harm to lug all the bags into the house—a feat he seemed determined to accomplish in one trip. Without a word Sarah took several bags from the back of the car before Harm could find a semi-free appendage to hang them off of. He flashed her a brilliant smile and they headed into the house. Sarah led Harm up to the second floor. "You can take the guestroom right there," she said, pointing to an open doorway a few feet away, "and Kati can stay in here with me," she added, indicating the bedroom with SARAH spelled out in sparkly green letters across the T-brace on the paneled door.

"Thanks," Harm said. He followed Sarah into her room and set his cousin's bags down on the floor. Sarah quirked an eyebrow at all the bags. "Yeah. Katrina doesn't know the meaning of 'packing light'," he smiled before hefting his backpack up onto his shoulder and going to stow it in the guest room. He liked Sarah already. Harm could see why his cousin had been drawn to the girl. She was sweet and friendly and adorable with her braids and freckles, but there was also a sadness behind her puppy-dog eyes that belied some serious emotional scarring that made Harm want to wrap her up in his arms and protect her from whatever had caused Sarah MacKenzie pain.

I don't know where Mac actually grew up, and a lot of details are going to change over the course of this story. Miami, Arizona, is a real place, and was the setting of an ALIAS-basedficthat a friend of mine wrote a while back and, since I didn't want to go with the usual 'Phoenix' fallback I went this route.

What do you think so far? There are a few more chapters that I've finished, and there will be more after that. Probably about ten chapters total, I think. Please let me know what you thought of this chapter, though, so I know if I should keep working on this or not.

M