Title: Interlude 3

Author: Nan

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em – wish I did.

Spoilers: None. All.

Author's notes – I'm switching from the premise I set up in Interlude 2. In this little vignette, Mac lost the toss and they are living in London. This is just recreational fluff.

Mac was wrestling with the baby jogger; trying to maneuver it across the narrow threshold of their London townhouse, when she realized Harm was standing in the hallway.

"Hey." Her eyebrows wrinkled together momentarily. "It's Wednesday, remember? Mattie has a late class. I haven't even thought about supper yet."

Her husband was sorting idly through the stack of mail on the hall table. He looked up and smiled. "Thought you and I could eat early tonight. I even thought maybe I'd make the dinner," he said.

"You did?" Mac was puzzled. She pushed the stroller down the hallway and stopped to kiss the man in the blue American Navy uniform resplendent with four gold stripes.

He responded with that slow gentle kiss that still made her heart race, even after two and half years of marriage. "Hmmmmm," he said softly, as they broke apart. "You taste salty. How far did you go today?"

"Just five clicks. But the pace was fast. I blame that on Trey. The faster I go the more your son likes it."

"He has a 'need for speed,' does he?" Harm reached down and started to unclip the harness holding the eight month old baby secure. "I'm jealous. I'd like to be running around with you, too." He picked up Trey and swung him over his head. The reaction was immediate. Trey squealed with delight.

Mac made her way to the kitchen. There were a couple of bags of groceries on the counter. Harm did indeed, intend to make dinner.

"How's the Reynold's case?" Mac asked.

"McBurney's rigid as ever. I'm starting to wonder if I made the right decision putting him on prosecution."

"That's all you're worried about?" Mac asked as she put the milk in the fridge.

"Well, I would run the defense a little different than Lt. Vukovic."

"I thought you set our young lieutenant straight?" smiled Mac.

"He needs another tune-up. And I can't wait to give it to him. Unfortunately, I haven't caught him at anything lately."

"Besides," said Mac. "You want Vukovic to win this one."

"You caught me. Yeah, I think the pilot is innocent," said Harm, bouncing Trey on his knee as he sat at the kitchen table.

Mac smiled in reply. Harm knew he couldn't influence a case. But it didn't stop him from wishing he could. Still tidying the work surface of the kitchen counter; she reached for Harm's briefcase. There was an open letter on the top.

"What's this?" she said, picking up the letter. "You've got new orders?"

Harm was concentrating on the baby.

Mac looked up. "You have orders to Washington?" she said confused.

"Look again," said Harm quietly.

Mac studied the document with confusion. And then she saw what she missed the first. The top of the letter was addressed to "Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie." These weren't for Harm. These were her orders.

"They are activating my reserve status?"

"It's the boundary dispute case currently on the docket in the World Court in The Hague," said Harm. "As a start, you are to report to the State Department and the Pentagon for briefing. Oh and they need you ASAP.

Mac re read the letter and waited. And waited. She waited for some sort of reaction to well up from the recesses of her mind. But she felt nothing.

Instead, she blurted out, "I can't do this!" She looked over to Harm. He was playing peek-a-boo with Trey.

"Why not?" asked Harm. She could hear Trey chuckle at Harm's attempts to amuse him.

"Trey, you, Mattie," she listed. "I can't go flying around the world like I used to."

Harm was silent. And that silence spoke volumes. Suddenly, it hit her. He was in support of this goofy idea.

"You can't manage Trey. Not with JAG. And Mattie's full time at college now. You can't saddle her with an eight month old."

"I don't want Mattie looking after Trey either. But she can fill in on occasion to give Mom a break."

"Trish?"

"Didn't I tell you that Mom is coming to visit? She arrives Saturday."

Mac stared at him, stunned. She tried to process this piece of new information. A month ago, Trish had finally sold the gallery in La Jolla. Since Frank's death last year, her heart was no longer in it. This meant she was more of a free agent than she had been for years. Now, the pieces fit. Harm had wheedled his mother into looking after Trey while she was away.

"How long have you known about this?" she accused him. He was enjoying this way too much.

"A while."

"Trish knows about this?" Mac waved the letter in the air.

"She jumped at the suggestion. I think she's lonely."

"What about you? Are you okay with having your mom here, full time, for a while?" asked Mac, turning the tables. She studied his reactions. Harm's unusual life choices had strained the relationship between mother and son. In a nutshell, Harm felt guilty for the worry he had caused her over the years.

"Yeah. I'm settled, married, kids and have a desk job. There's absolutely nothing stopping me from looking her straight in the eye with anything but a clear conscience."

"Except perhaps, your latest set of quals," said Mac. She paused then started again. "Ever since Christmas in DC, you've been plotting this, haven't you?"

"DC?"

"At the Roberts. When Harriet, myself and the admiral were comparing notes on our post retirement activities. You made that remark that we were all enjoying this 'way too much!"

"Well, you were! I had to listen to the admiral's stories about ball parks across the nation; Harriet's latest escapades with AJ, Jimmy and the twins. And then of course, you told them all about that paleontology dig on the English/Scottish border. Sheeesh."

"Jealous?" she asked.

"True. As I recall, you guys were actually contemplating a bird-watching trip to Costa Rica."

"I thought it sounded like fun," said Mac.

"Bird watching? That's when I knew it was time for an intervention."

"What's wrong with looking after Trey, you and Mattie?" She was off on another track. Somehow, she felt she needed to defend her activities.

"Did I say something was wrong with it?" Harm's voice was taking on an annoyed tone. "I thought you might enjoy the challenge. Take it as a compliment."

"Who suggested my name, anyway?"

"That's a long story. But once Chegwidden was recalled to active duty on a special project basis – it was a slam dunk that your name would come up."

"The admiral?"

"Yeah. The SecNav asked for his help."

"Who told them I might be interested?"

"That would be me, I guess."

"Harm. We flipped a coin remember. Your idea, as I recall. You won."

"Well, fate's funny like that. You never know what's going to happen next."

"Do I make you feel guilty about winning the toss? I've never looked back, you know. No need to feel guilty."

"I don't feel guilty!" Harm was exasperated with her illogical logic. "Go take a shower. I'll make dinner. We can talk then." Harm grabbed her shoulders and twirled her around and pointed her towards the stairs. "Go!"

Harm was lounging on the sofa. Dinner was done and dishes away. Trey was freshly bathed and in his pj's playing with Mac on the rug in front of the fireplace. The crackling fire cast a rosy glow on the pair as they diligently built a tall tower with wooden blocks. Harm raised a glass of wine to his lips. Trey shrieked as the tower crumbled. The two parents smiled simultaneously at the baby's fun.

"Have you decided?" asked Harm.

"I couldn't possibly go," said Mac.

"Why this time?"

"This!" she explained pointing to Trey and his blocks. "I can't miss this. This case could take months."

"It's in The Hague. You can come home on weekends. We could go visit you," Harm was starting to feel annoyed again. She could be so stubborn.

"You couldn't possibly look after Trey," she said. "Why, you can't even change his diapers correctly!"

Harm drew a blank.

Mac continued, "They're always too loose when you do it. If I don't tighten the tabs – it's a guaranteed wardrobe malfunction the next time he goes potty."

"I'll make sure the tabs are tight," said Harm.

"And that home made baby food… the bean mixture? I hate to tell you but it gives him the runs."

"Point taken. It's off the menu."

"Who's going to run him around the park every day?"

"Mom."

"Your mom can't run. And he likes it fast."

"Okay then, I'll do it. He can run with me."

"You run too early. You can't take him out a 0530."

Harm was silent at that. "Mac," he said finally said. In a firm voice.

"You think I'm being silly? Well, I'm not. He's still breast feeding."

"Trey is eight months, Mac. And you told me you weaned him a month ago."

"I did. I did. I just… Well I just couldn't give up that last feeding just before he goes to bed. He settles down so nicely after that. Sleeps right through the night. We want him to sleep through the night, right?"

Harm was silent. There were traces of tears on her cheeks. He watched his wife cradle their son in her arms, snuggling him close. She came over to the sofa and sat next to him.

"You're going to go, aren't you," he breathed into her hair as he put his arms around the pair.

"Yes. I just didn't think it would be this hard to do."

"We're tough. Mattie, Trey and myself. It won't be easy but we'll make it," he told her solemnly.

She whacked him. "You're laughing at me."

"No. Well, maybe a bit. This just wasn't the reaction I thought I'd get."

"What reaction was that?" she asked.

"Well, call me crazy but I thought it might be something along the line of you falling at my feet and telling me how wonderful I am."

"For ripping me away from the family I love? You really were dreaming!"

"What about the career you also love?" Harm asked.

"There's that too," she said.

"Sorry for keeping you out of the loop till the end."

"Well, it was probably for the best."

"It won't be so bad. You'll see."

"Yes," she said. "Wait, where are my uniforms?"

"I found them last weekend. Packed away in the storage locker. They're at the dry cleaners."

Realization hit again. She turned and whacked him across the shoulder, this time careful not to disturb Trey. The baby's eyelids were starting to droop.

She whispered, "That's why you decided to clean out the storage locker. I was wondering what possessed you to take on that job. You're such a sneak."

They sat together silently, watching the flames flicker and the embers glow. Mac lay back into him, resting her head on his chest.

"We'll miss you, marine," said Harm kissing her hair.

"You better, sailor," said Mac.

7