HARM'S APARTMENT

Harm packed automatically – blindly tossing items in his overnight bag. He's been on so many trips that he knew what he needed to pack without even thinking about it. Sometimes he wondered why he didn't just keep a bag packed and ready to go at all times. You would have thought that he would have learned that, if nothing else, after sixteen years as a naval officer and four years at Annapolis.

"Do you have anything to pick up?"

"I'm a Marine, Harm. First to go. We always keep a packed bag in the car."


"I guess that's the difference between sailors and Marines. I keep golf clubs in my car."

He shook his head, trying to banish the memory. Memories. They'd become the bane of his existence the last few weeks, ever since that damned engagement party. It was like a floodgate had been opened – everywhere he turned, he was haunted by her face, by the way things used to be between them, by what would now never be. In three days, she would become Mrs. Mic Brumby and apparently nothing was going to stop that now. Not even what had happened between them that night - what was continuing to happen between them - was apparently enough to cause Mac to turn her back on the arrogant Australian.

He should have run in the other direction after that kiss on the Admiral's porch. By her words as they'd broke apart, it seemed that she'd clearly meant it as some sort of goodbye, a farewell to what might have been. She'd even tried to pull away at first, before he'd pulled her back and they'd both lost themselves for an all-too-brief moment in the hint of what could have been. But as they'd stood side by side as Harriet's promotion was announced, their hands brushing, he'd realized that there was no way he could run from this, not anymore.

As he'd told her, the thing he wanted most was to never lose her, even if the only way he could have her now was only as a friend. And as he'd walked into JAG that Monday morning after the party, that was precisely what he'd feared would happen. He'd been afraid that she would be the one to run – away from him and from the feelings swirling between them which had finally surfaced. He'd nearly frozen in place as he'd gone to the kitchen for his morning cup of coffee, finding her already in the kitchen, emptying a packet of sugar into her mug. He'd watched her for a moment, debating whether to go in there and face head on whatever might happen or turn and head for his office until the coast was clear and he was safe from everything that he was afraid of.

The decision ended up being taken out of his hands when she'd turned around, coffee in hand, and had seen him standing in the doorway. Then the most amazing thing had happened. She'd smiled at him and said 'Good morning', just like it was any other morning. Smiling and greeting her in return, he'd entered the kitchen and set about preparing his own beverage. As he'd turned back to his mug after replacing the carafe in the coffee maker, his arm had accidentally brushed against hers. He didn't remember her being that close to him when he'd poured his coffee. Had she been closer than he'd thought she was? Or had she moved closer to him, driven by the same need to be near him that he was trying to quash in himself?

From there, the ice had been broken. Whenever they ended up together, they seemed to always end up touching. Maybe it was just his hand on her arm, wanting to point something out to her. Or her arm brushing against his, lingering just a little bit longer than necessary as she handed him a piece of paper in the weekly staff meeting. Or a congratulatory pat on the shoulder after a hard-fought win in court. But for the diamond glaring brightly from her left hand, soon to be joined by a band of gold, it was as if time had finally been turned back – before his return to flying, before Sydney, before Mic, before Renee, before all the other little things that had conspired to tear them apart.

But their kiss in the courtyard today – that had come out of nowhere. Or maybe it had been inevitable, the only logical result of their renewed closeness, both physical and emotional. Harm couldn't decide which it was. Maybe they should have run from each other. If it could happen once – as it had on the Admiral's porch – then surely it wasn't outside the realm of possibility that it could happen again. But they couldn't have predicted how that simple kiss could spin so quickly out of control, could they? How were they to know that it would only be the uniforms they wore and the fact that they were in a public setting that would serve to prevent them from giving themselves up to the desire and need which was flaring up between them.

It went against everything he believed in, the honor which had been instilled in him as an officer and a gentleman. But there were some things that even the most stringent military discipline couldn't control or contain and, God help them both, this appeared to be one of them. Sometimes he wished that what she'd once accused him of had been true, that he looked at her and saw Diane. Then it would be easier to convince himself that he shouldn't want her, shouldn't desire her, that his emotions only stemmed from her resemblance to his lost love and that it wasn't enough to risk everything over and not fair to any of them.

"Hey, Sailor," Renee said, wrapping her arms around him from behind. Harm tensed slightly, having not even heard her come in. "I wasn't expecting you to be home so early. I thought I'd be here waiting for you... " Harm stepped to the side, out of her arms, and Renee got a good look at the open travel bag on his bed. "Where are you going?"

"Remember, I told you my carrier quals were coming up," he reminded her. "I just got my orders this morning. I report to the Patrick Henry tomorrow morning. I'm catching a helo out of Norfolk."

"Well, can't you delay?" she asked, a slight pout on her face, waving her hand as if dismissing his orders. "I mean, Mac's wedding is Saturday." Truth be told, Renee was desperate for the two of them to attend the wedding. She wanted Harm to watch as Mac pledged her life and love to another man and hoped that the finality of that action would finally push Harm where she wanted him to go – completely and absolutely hers. Once Mac was forever out of his reach, then surely it would be easier to convince him to give her the miracle she wanted.

Harm sighed inwardly. He knew why she'd brought the wedding up. She'd certainly been dropping enough hints over the last few months. Hell, she'd even admitted that she was counting the days until the wedding, right after she'd pressed him about his feelings for Mac and he'd sidestepped the issue. But he couldn't bring himself to care right now. Maybe it was harsh, considering that he'd been involved with her for a year and a half, but his heart was firmly in the grasp of one Sarah Mackenzie and after the party, he could not run from that any more. "Renee, I'll be back in time for the wedding," he said with a patience that he didn't really feel. "I spoke to Mac earlier and she pointed out the same thing and I promised to be back in time."

"Oh," Renee said, managing to mask her irritation. The woman was getting married in three days, but she was the one who managed to extract a promise from Harm to return in time for the wedding. Renee had the feeling deep down that if she'd asked him to return to escort her to the wedding, he would have come up with at least a dozen reasons why he wouldn't make it back in time. Time to change the topic and remind him that she was the one in his life. "So what do you want to do this afternoon? I managed to clear my schedule so that I could surprise you when you got off work but it's still a little early for the dinner reservations that I made for us, so I'm flexible." She wrapped her arms around him again and let her hands roam freely, giving him a very good idea of what she wanted to do.

Harm extricated himself from her embrace, momentarily haunted by another woman, another embrace – one that he hadn't wanted to let go of. He could almost see the electricity sparking when Mac touched him. With Renee, although it felt pleasant enough, he didn't have the sense that he'd starve if he never felt her touch again. He zipped up his bag and carried it over to the door. "Renee, I'm leaving on a helo first thing in the morning from a base three hours away," he pointed out. He dropped the bag on the floor under the coat rack and turned to face her, not really surprised that the pout was still present on her face. It was an emotion that she was very good at and liked to trot out every time his job took him away from her. "I'm driving down to Norfolk tonight. In fact, I was planning to leave as soon as I called you to let you know what was going on."

Of course, he just had to tell Mac that he was leaving before he told her. Just three more days, she reminded herself. In seventy-two hours, Sarah Mackenzie would be Sarah Brumby and out of their lives – and out of their relationship – forever. "Do you have to?" she pouted, then snapped her fingers and smiled as an idea came to her. It would require some more rearranging of her schedule, but this was too important. "Why don't I give Claude a call and push back tomorrow's schedule for a few hours? Then I can accompany you to Norfolk and give you a proper goodbye before you go."

"No, Renee," he said, picking up a stack of mail off the bookcase and idly flipping through it, not that he hadn't already done so when he'd gotten home. He just wasn't in the mood for Renee's pleading. "Quals are very stressful. If I don't do well, then I can lose my flight status. I'm driving up to Norfolk tonight so I can get a good night's sleep and be well rested for my quals, which would be the last thing that would happen if you came with me."

"Harm, she's getting married in three days," Renee pointed out, fingering the string of pearls around her neck. Wonderful. How was she supposed to make him forget if he kept pushing her away? Well, she wasn't a woman who would tolerate being pushed away.

He turned around and stared at her as if she'd suddenly grown two heads, dropping the stack of mail back on the bookcase. "Since when were we talking about Mac?" he demanded. "I was talking about my carrier-landing quals." Right, and you're in such a foul mood because you're worried about catching the three wire, he chided himself.

"Since she's always between us," Renee countered, "even when she's not here. Tell me, if she hadn't asked you to make a point of it, would you even care if you made it back in time for her wedding?"

"Of course," he said, using the same line he'd often used on himself in the last few months as he'd watched her make wedding plans with Brumby. Not that he thought it would convince Renee any more than he'd managed to convince himself with it. "Mac has been a close friend for nearly five years."

"And more?" she mused. She'd often wondered, but both she and Mic had tried to convince themselves that it didn't matter. All that should have mattered was that he had Mac and she had Harm. But the more distant he became as the wedding drew closer, the more she needed to know.

"I am not going there with you," he said firmly, barely able to keep the anger out of his voice, picking up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. She noted that, as before, he hadn't really denied her assertion. "As you said, Mac is getting married in three days. And that's the end of it."

Studying him with his determined expression and hand on the door knob, Renee reluctantly convinced herself to let it drop for now. At least he would be in Norfolk, then on a carrier in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, and Mac would be here in Washington, distracted by all those pesky last-minute wedding details. She pressed against his side, intending to give him a deep, passionate goodbye kiss, but he turned to open the door and she only managed to press her lips against the corner of his mouth. "You'll call me when you get back," she said hopefully. "Or if you are running behind, you could get ready for the wedding then come by to pick me up." She couldn't help throwing in one more reminder of the door that was about to close to him.

He nodded as they stepped out of the apartment and he closed the door behind him, locking it. "I'll call," he agreed, trying not to think about escorting her to the wedding that was threatening to rip his heart to shreds.

"Good," she said, turning her to him as they stood in the hall and this time managing to catch him off-guard enough to give him a kiss, even if it wasn't quite the kind of kiss she'd wanted to give. "Just remember that I'm waiting for you."

As he climbed into his car, Harm tossed his bag on the seat beside him with a sigh. Renee was his girlfriend, but when she'd just kissed him, he hadn't felt anything. He'd been automatic, rote in his response. He couldn't make himself feel anything. Truth be told, he'd been that way ever since the party, when he'd held in his arms the one woman whose kisses would always haunt him.

-----

Mac was distracted as she walked across the street to her building. What was happening? She'd spent the better part of a year trying to convince herself that she was in love with one Mic Brumby, but all that had fallen apart with one simple kiss. Now, as she was about to marry one man, she craved the touch and kisses of another as much as she craved the air that she breathed.

"Hey, Mac!" a voice called out from in front of her. Mac looked up from where she was studying the cracks in the sidewalk in front of her to see her sister running towards her. She held her arms out and gathered Chloe into her embrace.

"It's so good to see you," she said. Oddly, for the first time in a long time, Mac felt relaxed. She took a step back and studied Chloe. "You've grown since the last time I saw you."

"Well, I'm grown up now," Chloe proclaimed, watching Mac. She was worried about her, had been ever since Mac had told her at Christmas that she'd agreed to marry Mic. Now that she could see Mac in person, she was even more concerned. Three days before her wedding and the last image that Mac projected was that of a happy bride-to-be.

Mac laughed. At least some things were constant. Chloe was still Chloe. "You just turned fourteen a few days ago," she pointed out.

"Yeah, fourteen going on forty," another voice interjected. Chloe sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Dad!"

"Hello again, Kyle," Mac said warmly, holding out her hand to him. "How are you doing?"

"I'm doing well," he replied as he shook her hand. "Congratulations on your wedding."

Chloe noticed the brief cloud that passed over Mac's face at the mention of the wedding, but then it was gone and Mac was smiling again. "Thank you," she replied.

"Look, we need to go get checked into our hotel," Kyle said. "But Chloe insisted we had to stop by and let you know that we made it here."

"I asked Dad if I could stay with you while he goes get us checked in," Chloe interrupted excitedly. "Since we haven't seen each other in a while, I thought we could take some time to get caught up, just us women."

"If it's okay with you, of course," Kyle said, trying to be the voice of reason.

Mac's looked at her sister and her heart melted. She could use the company – and maybe Chloe could help distract her from the turmoil haunting her night and day. "It's fine, Kyle," Mac assured him. "I'd love to have Chloe to myself for a few hours."

"Great!" Chloe exclaimed. "See you later, Dad!"

Kyle laughed as he kissed his daughter's forehead. "Well, I guess she's all yours then, Mac," he acquiesced. "Just give me a call if she gets to be too much. Otherwise, I'll pick her up in a few hours for dinner." He winked, causing Mac to laugh and Chloe to roll her eyes again.

"Bye, Kyle," Mac said. "We'll see you later."

"Bye, Dad," Chloe echoed. They both watched as Kyle walked down the street back to where he'd parked their rental car. Once he'd driven off, Mac put her arm over Chloe's shoulder and led her into her building.

"You don't know how glad I am to see you," Mac said.

"So how's Harm?" Chloe asked, managing to sound completely innocent. Bingo, she thought as she noted the pained look in Mac's eyes at the mention of his name.

It took Mac a moment to shake the memory of their walk from her mind and to attempt a convincing answer. "Harm's fine," she replied, glancing down at her engagement ring. She shook her head. "He's leaving tonight for Norfolk. He has to complete his annual carrier-landing qualifications by the end of the month."

"You mean he's not going to be here for the wedding?" Chloe asked, raising her voice as Mac unlocked her apartment door. A passing neighbor looked at them oddly and Mac ushered Chloe into the apartment, firmly closing the door behind them. "I can't believe this." Chloe was upset. She'd held onto her dreams of someday being the flower girl at Harm and Mac's wedding. Mac's upcoming wedding to Mic was just a minor stumbling block to that. She'd had romantic visions of Harm sweeping in and declaring his undying love for Mac, carrying her away from what would be the biggest mistake of her life. How could he do that if he wasn't even going to be there?

"Chloe, Harm's going to be at the wedding," Mac assured her, puzzled by Chloe's reaction. Sure, Chloe was very fond of Harm, but you'd think Harm was the one she was marrying from the way she was acting. "I spoke to him earlier. He promised to be back in time for the wedding."

Chloe couldn't help her sigh of relief. "Good," she said, relieved. "Then it's not too late."

"Too late for what?" Mac asked, although she had a feeling that she already knew the answer to that question. She really shouldn't be surprised that Chloe was managing to give voice the doubts in her own heart. Chloe had always been one to speak her mind and had always been expressing hope that Harm and Mac would eventually get together. She needed to nip this in the bud. She had enough on her mind without her sister adding to the turmoil. Chloe was supposed to help make her feel better, not doubt herself even more. "Chloe, I. . . ."

"Why are you marrying him?" Chloe asked, abruptly changing the subject from Harm to Mac's intended husband.

"What?" Mac turned around and stared at her sister incredulously, startled by the sudden redirection of their conversation.

"Why are you marrying Mic Brumby?" Chloe clarified. "What is it about him that is making you choose to spend the rest of your life with this man?"

"Well," Mac began slowly, trying to gather her thoughts, "he's a good man. He makes me laugh. He gave up a lot to be with me here – his career in the Navy, his home in Australia. And most importantly, he's offering me the life I've always wanted – a home, a family eventually."

Chloe wanted to strangle her sister. How could such an intelligent woman be so completely dense when it came to her personal life? She sighed heavily. Sometimes she felt like she was the older one. "What about love?" she pressed.


What does love have to do with anything?

Yeah, what does it have to do with anything, she asked herself. She'd been in love – and her affections had been thrown back in her face with talk of not being able to let go and waiting, possibly for eternity. When Mac didn't answer immediately, Chloe repeated the question. Mac shook her head, trying to clear it. "Chloe, it's a lot more complicated than that," she tried to explain, but Chloe waved her off.

"The only complication I see here is that you love Harm," Chloe countered, "he loves you and – for some God-unknown reason that I have been trying to figure out ever since you first told me you had agreed to wear Mic's ring – you're about to throw your life away on marriage to a man whom you definitely do not love."

"I never said that," Mac protested, but it sounded weak, even to her own ears.

"And you never said that you do love him either," Chloe pointed out. "Come on, Mac. It's not that hard, if you really do love him. It's just three little words. Say them."

"I ..." Mac began, the rest of the words sticking in her throat. Chloe wanted to jump up and down in triumph, but stopped at the look of utter despair on Mac's face.

Chloe walked across the room to Mac and clasped her hands. "Mac," she said in a very serious and grown-up tone, "you're my sister and I love you. So please listen to me when I say that I'm worried about you. I'm scared that you're about to make a huge mistake. You love one man, but you're about to marry another. You're settling for some reason that I don't think even you understand. Please, think about this some more before you end up ruining three lives."

"Chloe, I've made my decision," Mac said, sounding uncertain, as if trying to convince herself as much as Chloe. "Harm has agreed to live with it. So should you. Please, I want you to be happy for me."

"Did it ever occur to you that Harm's accepting your decision only because you're not giving him a choice," Chloe asked sadly, "that he loves you enough to let you walk away because that is what you are making him believe that you want? He's falling on his sword because he loves you enough to let you go if that is what makes you happy."

You've made a choice to get married and I respect that.

"Harm's not falling on his sword," Mac protested, even as she began to seriously consider the possibility in her own mind. How many times had he told her that he was happy for her if she was happy? Sure, they touched more now than they had in the last couple of years – touched the way they used to before. . . .things. . . .had conspired to nearly tear their friendship apart. That didn't mean that Harm was in love with her. But their kisses – the way he'd pulled her back to him during both kisses, as if he couldn't get enough of her. Those were hardly the actions of a man who was happy that she was marrying someone else.

"Have you ever asked him?" Chloe asked. "Or is he just telling you what you think you want to hear because you haven't asked?"

"Chloe ..." Mac began, pulling her hands away and turning to look out the window. It was a beautiful day, the sun shining blindingly bright. Too bad it couldn't shed the light of truth on this situation. Or maybe she was so far gone that she was blinded to the truth. She didn't know anymore.

"Mac, talk to him," Chloe pleaded, placing her hand on Mac's arm. "Go see him before he heads to Norfolk. You owe it to yourself, to him – even to Mic Brumby – to figure this out before you get to the 'until death us do part'."

When Mac remained silently staring out the window, Chloe shook her head sadly, an action Mac saw reflected in the window, but didn't acknowledge. She knew how Chloe felt about Harm – she'd never made any secret of her hopes for Harm and Mac. But she barely knew Mic. How could she know or not know what was between the two of them?

"Mac, I'm going to call my dad on his cell phone and ask him to come pick me up," Chloe said. "Please, think about what I said and please, go talk to Harm. You should be sure before you get married and from what I've heard here, you are far from it."

It helps if you're sure.

Mac stood unmoving by the window as Chloe walked across the room and made her phone call. Maybe she should have stayed as far away from Harm as possible during that damned party, instead of pushing him until he finally opened up. Then they would never have kissed and then they wouldn't have spent the last two weeks touching and then they wouldn't have kissed today in the courtyard. Then maybe Mac wouldn't have all these doubts.

But as she touched her lips with her fingertips, remembering how they'd tingled from Harm's kisses, she knew at least one thing. She couldn't have not kissed Harm, anymore than she could deny her own name.

-----

After Chloe had left, giving her father the excuse that Mac was exhausted from all the wedding preparations and that they would spend time together tomorrow, Mac had paced her living room until she was surprised she hadn't worn a hole in the carpet. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore and, grabbing her keys and her purse, left her apartment and took off in her Corvette, figuring a drive would clear her head.

Permission to come aboard.

Permission granted.

Mac pounded her fist on the steering wheel. He'd captured her attention from the beginning, looking so confident and cocky and sure with his gold wings and brand-new medal pinned on by the President of the United States. She'd admitted it to herself when he'd gone out of his way – after she'd all but betrayed him – to come to the rescue of her and her uncle, both literally and figuratively. But she hid behind a façade of Marine discipline and the walls she'd built around herself to prevent people from getting too close, to prevent anyone else from hurting her the way her parents had hurt her.

I know. You were kissing her.

That had been easier than admitting the truth – that she'd wanted Harmon Rabb more than she'd wanted any man in her life. But he was hurting from the memory of his lost love and it was simpler to brush their kiss off as an aberration, telling herself that he only saw her as a doppelganger of his dead love. It was better than risking her feelings being shot down.

Damn you. Why am I the only one crying?

That had probably been the moment, more than any other since they'd known each other, when she'd wanted him more than she'd wanted her next breath. She would have done anything if only he'd swept her into his arms and carried her off, promising that when he would come home, he would come home to her.


Is that how long we're going to wait?

She should have stuck to her guns, kept telling herself that Harm only saw her as the living apparition of his dead love. Then maybe she wouldn't have thrown herself at him and ended up going down in flames, leading her to accept a ring from another man – a man she hadn't even dated – just a few nights later.


A 19th-century Naval Commander, with Mic's face, walked down the row of mutineers about to be hung at his command. He looked each man in the eye as he pulled the black hood of death over their faces. Finally, his eyes locked with the third and final man – a man with Harm's face.

With a sharp jerk of the steering wheel, Mac pulled off the road, gravel spraying as she came to a stop with the screech of tires on the unpaved shoulder. Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel as her whole body shook with the sobs she forced back, refusing to give into the tears forming. A snippet of her conversation with Harm at the party echoed in her head.


What do you want most?

What I want most, Mac, is... is to never lose you.

I promise you - no matter what happens - you won't lose me.

Was that what the dream meant? That if she married Brumby, she'd lose Harm – their friendship ending up dead and buried, along with anything else which might have been? "No," she cried out. "That can't happen." She released the steering wheel and pressed her hands to her head, fighting against the headache threatening to overwhelm her. Her head jerked up when she heard a knock on her car window.

Taking a shaky breath, she rolled down the window, finding herself looking into the eyes of a Virginia State Trooper. "Ma'am, are you alright?" he asked, studying her intently. Probably looking for signs that I'm driving drunk, she realized. Figuring that he would ask, she slowly reached for her license in her purse and registration in the glove compartment, holding them up for the officer to see.

"I'm sorry," she said, taking another deep breath. "I just got a little dizzy and thought it best to pull off the road. I didn't want to get into an accident."

The officer smiled at her and Mac forced herself to relax, managing a smile in response. "There's an exit just ahead with a gas station and restaurant," he suggested. "Maybe you can stop there for a while, get some aspirin, clear your head before you continue on to wherever you're going."

"That's probably not a bad idea," she agreed. Suddenly, she frowned. Calculating the time in her head and glancing at the rapidly setting sun, she realized that she had to have been on the road for a while, blindly driving wherever the car would take her. Hoping the trooper wouldn't think she was completely out of it, she asked, "Where am I exactly? I'm afraid I'm not all that familiar with this part of the state."

"You're just north of Richmond," he replied, not looking at her too strangely, for which Mac was thankful. "The 295 interchange is a few miles ahead. Where are you headed?"

"Norfolk," she answered automatically, and then stopped. Where on earth had that come from? She wasn't headed for Norfolk. Yeah, right, the voice inside her head countered, that's why you're already halfway there without even realizing where you were going. "I'm going to see my ... a friend. He's deploying in the morning to an aircraft carrier."

"Well, depending on traffic you've probably got another hour and a half – maybe two – before you get there," he pointed out. "It's probably not a bad idea to take that break, depending on how far you've come already."

"Washington," she stated. "I'm driving from DC. And thank you for the suggestion. I think I will take that break at the next exit." Yeah, I need to figure out just what the hell I'm doing, she thought.

Satisfied that Mac was okay and not drunk, the trooper returned to his own vehicle. Mac waited until he'd driven off, and then pulled back onto the road herself. As she drew closer to the exit, she considered her options. All she had to do was get off at the exit, probably cross a bridge, then get back on the highway going north, back to DC. That would be for the best.

A few minutes later, in the parking lot of a gas station, Mac was still debating with herself about which way to go. Straight ahead then left to I-95 North and back to DC? Or right back onto I-95 South and continue on to I-295, then I-64, eventually ending up in Norfolk?

You're in love with Harm... if it makes you feel any better, you should know that Harm's in love with you, too.

Maybe Chloe was right. Maybe she did need to clear the air with Harm once and for all. They'd made a start on the Admiral's porch, but maybe they needed to finish it before she could move on – before any of them could. Mac took a deep breath and started her car. Her features expressing her determination, her decision firmly set in her mind, she pulled out of the gas station parking lot and back onto the highway – heading south towards Norfolk Naval Base.

-----

To be continued…