Title: We've Got Tonight

Summary: The coin toss never happens, and Harm and Mac go their separate ways. But they run into one another over the years and find the spark is still there.

Part Seven

November 2010

London, United Kingdom

I look around the Admiral's crowded home and frown. I don't see Mac anywhere. She excused herself to take a call a while ago, and I haven't seen her since. And as the minutes tick on, I find myself feeling jealous, which only annoys me. I know there isn't anyone else. She told me there wasn't, and I know she'd never lie to me. But what if it's an ex who regrets letting her go? The holidays can make people sentimental, after all. What if one of these men who can offer her more than I can has had a change of heart and is currently begging her for a second chance?

I need some air. I squeeze through the mass of people, head to the back porch, and immediately exhale when the cool air hits my face, and the sounds of the bustling city greet me. I sit on the edge of a low brick retaining wall and briefly close my eyes. Are we idiots? I'm not sure what exactly we agreed to earlier this morning, but is whatever it is colossally stupid? Sex may not have ruined our friendship, but could the attempt to have something more destroy it?

"Are you okay?"

I turn away from the view of the city and see Mac stepping onto the patio. She moves towards me, rubbing her hands over her bare arms, and I roll my eyes at her perpetual lack of a coat. I slip out of mine and drape it over her shoulders once she reaches me.

She pulls the coat tight around her and looks up at me with a bright smile. "This is beginning to feel like our thing."

I can't help but laugh and tug her close. "Maybe you should start dressing more seasonally appropriate."

Mac lowers her head to her shoulder, inhales deeply, and I smile. "This way is better." She lowers her head to my chest and sighs softly. "It's a beautiful night."

"It is," I say.

"Is that the only reason you're sitting out here?"

I run my hand over her head and twist a ribbon of her hair around my finger. "I was starting to feel a little claustrophobic in there." I feel her nod, and I take a deep breath and let my curiosity get the better of me. "Everything okay back home?"

"Hmm?"

"The phone call," I clarify.

Her head pops up, and she nods. "Oh, yeah, everything is fine." I don't say anything because I instinctively feel like she wants to say more, and I feel a little smug when she finally does. "Ben – my most recent ex – called. He has three little boys, and they wanted to invite me over for Thanksgiving dinner."

"Ah," I say, and I feel like my jealousy has been somewhat validated – the call was from an ex. "Are you going?" I meant it as a joke. Obviously, it's a joke since she's in London with me and not in San Diego with them, but the words sound bitter when they come out, and I wince.

She doesn't say anything but pulls away from me and frowns. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I say.

She rolls her eyes and shoves her hands into her – my – pockets. "Something's wrong." I shake my head, and she sighs. "Harm, you're standing out here alone in the cold and making comments like that. Something is wrong."

"It was a joke," I say. "You're here, and it's a long flight back to San Diego. Of course, you're not going."

"Harm," she says, and there's a tone in her voice that I find irritating.

"And I wasn't cold when I came out here."

She looks down at the navy material covering her arms and looks back at me with narrowed eyes. She pulls the jacket off and hands it back to me. "Here."

I shake my head. "Don't be ridiculous." She waves the jacket at me, and I finally take it; but instead of putting it on, I drape it back over her shoulders. I pull the lapels together and run my hands over her arms before stepping back. "Nothing is wrong," I insist. "I was kidding – it was just a stupid comment, and I didn't mean anything by it."

Mac is quiet for a while, and then she sighs softly and looks up at me. "I wouldn't have gone to dinner even if I were in San Diego." Our eyes meet, and she gives a tiny shrug. "He and I broke up for a lot of reasons, and they were all good reasons."

I nod, but I don't know what her reasons are. We haven't talked much about the men she's dated since being in San Diego, and that's my fault. I haven't wanted to know anything about them. "I was jealous," I admit. "You took the phone and disappeared into a bedroom for a while, and the longer you were gone, the more jealous I was." I exhale sharply and shake my head. "I had forgotten how much I hate being jealous."

She moves away from me and sits on the wall I was sitting on earlier. "I took the call because I had ignored three previous calls from him, and I was worried something was wrong. And the call took forever because his boys each wanted a chance to say hi and tell me about the parade they went to earlier in the day." She looks up at me, and it's like her eyes have some magnetic power that forces me to step closer. "You have no reason to be jealous, Harm."

"We didn't define the parameters of what this is," I say, moving my finger back and forth between us.

"I don't think there's a simple word for what we are." She smiles and shrugs. "I've been thinking about it all day, and I've thought about it every time you've introduced me to someone tonight. Boyfriend/girlfriend doesn't feel right, considering you're almost fifty."

"Hey, watch it," I say, and hold my hand over my heart.

She laughs and reaches for my hand. "Partner just makes me think of our past, and lover is too personal and doesn't feel right considering we're thousands of miles apart."

I sit next to her and toy with her fingers. "You're right," I say. "But not knowing what label to use is different from defining parameters." She looks up at me, and I can see vulnerability all over her beautiful face. It's funny – she's nearing fifty too, and is more beautiful now than she was the day we met.

"Only one parameter," she says softly. "We don't see anyone else while we're doing whatever we decide to label this." I nod, and she smiles. "Whether one of us eventually retires and we can really be together, or whether this just runs its course, I promise you there won't be anyone else, and you have no reason to be jealous of anyone."

Making her the same promise is easy, and I lift our joined hands to my mouth and press my lips against her cool skin. "Want to get out of here?"

"Yeah."


"Tonight was fun," she says as we walk into my home.

I nod and hang up my coat. It was fun. The staff here may not be as tightly knit as our group at JAG was, but I genuinely enjoy the people I work with, and I'm pleased they all seem to feel the same way about me. "I'm glad," I say. I help her with her coat and hang it next to mine. I take her hand, lead her into the living room, and gesture to the couch. "I was going to start a fire if you want to stay up for a while."

"A fire sounds nice," she says, kicking her shoes off before settling on my couch.

I watch her for a minute, and I can't help but smile at how familiar this is. This same scene played out so many times during our partnership. We'd have dinner and then move to the couch to work. She'd kick off her shoes, pull her legs up, and then cover her lap and legs in files and legal pads. And so many of those times, I was desperate for more.

She notices me watching her and cocks her head to the side. "Doesn't seem like you're getting very far on that fire," she teases.

I blush and bend over to kiss her. "I was just thinking a fire may not be necessary." I toy with the tie on the side of her wrap dress and grin. "I can think of other ways to get warm."

Mac laughs and bats my hand away. "Oh, I'm sure you can. But I've got my heart set on a fire."

"Fine," I say. I kiss her again and turn to the fireplace. I begin to expertly stack pieces of wood, strike a match, and nestle it underneath. The wood at the bottom is soft, and the fire takes quickly. I watch it for a moment and then turn my attention back to her. "Happy?"

She slowly nods, and somehow, I know she's happy about more than just slowly burning wood. "Come here," she says softly. I kick off my own shoes and join her on the couch. She immediately turns to me and places her hand on my chest. "I'm glad you suggested this," she says, "and I don't mean the fire. Thank you for inviting me out here."

I cover her hand with mine and squeeze. "I'm glad you came," I say. "I love having you here."

She grabs a fistful of my shirt and pulls me close. She kisses me with an intensity that seems uniquely her, and I instantly need more. I settle against the back of the couch, and without breaking the kiss, I pull her onto my lap.

She pulls back first, her dark, heavy eyes moving over my face, and she raises a hand to tangle in my hair. "I love you, Harm."

I swallow hard and take a deep breath. It's the first time she's said it first, and I move my hands from her hips and gently cup her face. "I love you, too." And then I kiss her again. This time there's less intensity and urgency. I'm taking my time now and kissing her like I've always wanted to – like we have all the time in the world. And though she's heading back to San Diego in a few days, for the first time, it feels like we do.

The next time she pulls back, she's out of breath, her hair is mussed, and I'm absolutely aching for her. "Bedroom?"

I shake my head and move us so that she's on her back, and I'm hovering over her. The couch isn't the best place for this, but it's what I fantasized about so many of those nights back in my old apartment, and I can't help myself. "Right here," I say. She nods, and I reach for the tie on her dress. I unknot it, pull the dress open, and spend a moment taking her in.

"You're so beautiful," I say reverently.

She trails a hand down my chest and smiles. "So are you." She begins to work the buttons, and then I pull my shirt off and toss it aside. "But I always knew you would be," she says.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." She lifts up so I can pull the dress all the way off, and then my body is on hers, and her legs wrap around me. There are still too many articles of clothing between us, but I want to take my time tonight. My lips move to her neck, and a soft moan escapes her. "I fantasized about you – about this – so many times."

"Me too," I say, and my lips are back on her skin. I move from her neck to her collarbones and, finally, stop at her lace-covered breasts. I reach around her to work the clasp, pull the bra down, and lightly run my fingertips over her. She arches her back and flattens my hand against her breast. I love this about her – how engaged she is during sex. It hasn't been like that with other women. The other women I've been with throughout my lifetime have been eager to please me. I slide my hands from her breasts to her hips and then take one of her nipples into my mouth. She gasps as my tongue flattens over the rock-hard peak and then moans as I nip with my teeth.

She begins to writhe beneath me, and I grind my erection against her thigh. God, I want her; I want her all the time. I slide a hand into her panties and push a finger inside her, eliciting an even louder moan, and she arches up, pressing herself against my hand.

"More, more, more," she gasps, and I curl my finger inside her and rub my thumb against her clit. She comes hard against my hand, and I go still while she rides out her orgasm.

I kiss her as she comes down, then lift off her when I feel her hand at the waist of my pants. "More," she says again. I pull her panties off and then stand up to finish undressing before settling on her again. She takes my erection into her hand and guides me to her entrance, closing her eyes when I gently push inside her.

I begin to move, enjoying every moment of this. Nothing has ever felt as good – as right – as this. Our legs are tangled together, our fingers are twined, and we move together as if we've been doing this our entire lives instead of this being just the fourth or fifth night we've spent together.

"You feel incredible," I whisper against her ear. She untwines our hands and grabs my hips, pulling me even closer.

"So good," she gasps and arches up to meet me. "So. Good."


We don't get dressed when we're finished. Instead, we wrap ourselves in blankets and move to the floor to be closer to the fire. She settles between my thighs, and we can't stop touching one another.

She looks back and smiles at me. "Can we do this all day tomorrow?"

I laugh and press my lips against her shoulder. "I have all kinds of touristy things planned, but we can if you'd rather."

She fully turns to face me, and her eyes are wide with surprise. "You planned things?" I nod, and she lets out a breath. "Really?"

"Well, yeah," I say, feeling a little self-conscious. "I haven't had time to do anything, really, and I thought it would be nice to see the sights with you."

Her cheeks flush the most beautiful shade and pink, and she lowers her head. I brush the curtain of dark hair off her shoulder, and she looks up and beams. "I'd love to play tourist with you."

"Good," I say, leaning in to kiss her. "I don't know when we'll see each other again, so I wanted to make this visit count."

Her smile fades just a bit, and she bites her bottom lip. "What are your plans for Christmas?"

I wrinkle my nose and lean back a bit. "I'm actually going to be in Germany for some training."

"Ah," she says, and I can tell she's disappointed.

"Are you okay," I ask. She nods but looks away. I tilt her face up, and she takes a breath. "We knew it would be like this," I say gently. "We both have demanding jobs, and we knew there could be a lot of time between visits."

"I know," she says. "And I'm fine with it; I'm just a little disappointed."

"I know," I say, and I kiss her forehead. "On Monday, we'll both look at our calendars and figure out when we'll have time for another visit. We can make it work."

She's quiet for a moment, and I can tell she's trying to work out what she wants to say. I know that ninety-nine percent of our issues over the years have come from a lack of communication, and I know that she's trying to make sure she says the right thing. "I really am fine if we don't see each other for a while." She licks her lips and sighs. "But I don't want us to do the traditional long-distance thing where we're permanently attached to our phones and email accounts."

"Okay," I say. And I'm honestly relieved because I don't want that either. "Turn around," I tell her, and she smiles and does as I ask, and I pull her back against me. She pulls her knees to her chest, and I rest my hands on her thighs and lean forward to nuzzle her neck. "We'll figure it all out," I say. "This is only day one."

End Part Seven