A/N: The next installment. Honestly, why does the Paraguay storyline suck so back but provides such fodder for these stories? I mention Mattie in one of these, but let it be on the record that I think that was a terribly ridiculous storyline.

RED

Side C

Track 9: Stay Stay Stay

October 2005

It's incredible that after four years of marriage he can make me so mad. Really mad, like furious. I'm pretty sure we almost broke up last night. I threw my phone at him even, along with a crystal vase that shattered on impact, shards of glass flying everywhere. In my defense, it was ugly. Seriously ugly. It was a wedding gift from his great-aunt Susan, and he insisted it be displayed on our mantle. Grandma Sarah visits a fair amount and does bring her sister on occasion so I suppose we should have it out for her. She always notices it and the man absolutely raves about it. I don't have the heart to tell him I find it offensively ugly.

So, anyway, I threw the vase, and here's the worst part: he laughed. He actually laughed. Idiot. And then said idiot got a broom and cleaned it all up, cackling all the while. I was so angry I ran up the stairs and into the bedroom, locking the door behind me.

Of course, he knew how to open the push button lock. He keeps a dart from our board handy because our son, who is thankfully with AJ and his new old wife Marcella because it was "date night" for us, likes to lock himself in the bathroom. That little mini-Harm thinks it's so amusing…until he realizes he can't get out because he can't turn the knob. We insert the dart tip into the little hole on the knob to release the lock from the outside to free our boy, and big Harm used the same trick to get into our bedroom last night. The man just laid down beside me and went to sleep…but not before I heard him chuckling in the night. I was about to roll over and smother him with my pillow, but I guess I fell asleep before I could follow through with that. I've been a little tired of late.

I'm in the kitchen drinking coffee when my husband gets his lazy ass out of bed, and I can feel him staring at me while he stands in the doorway. I know he's waiting for me to say something, but I'll be damned if I apologize for…okay, it's time to admit that I honestly have no idea what we were fighting about last night. Come to think about it, I may have actually been the only one fighting…

Well, crap. I push my coffee aside and sigh, turning toward my husband. "I suppose we should talk about it."

Harm isn't smiling or laughing this morning, but there's something twinkling in his eyes. He nods. "Yeah, we should. Just gimme a minute." He turns and walks away, and I can hear him digging in the hall closet. While I wait for him, I get up and pour the rest of my coffee into the sink. I'm feeling a little queasy this morning and suddenly the coffee doesn't seem like such a good idea.

I'm still standing by the sink looking out the window when Harm comes back. "Okay, let's talk," he says, and I turn around.

And suddenly I'm laughing. Harm stands there in the doorway, decked out in body armor and his flight helmet.

"Well," Harm says with a smile. "I thought I'd better protect myself."

"Good plan, sailor," I answer and then I throw a wet sponge at him with a giggle. He never rinses the sponge out, nor does he put it back where it will dry, so he really does deserve this. He catches it handily, then tosses it aside and comes forward to take me in his arms.

"I'm sorry about last night, baby," he says, and I immediately feel guilty. He's not the one who started our "fight."

"No, Harm, I'm the one who started things, and the worst part is I have no idea why I started it in the first place."

Harm steps back to remove his helmet. "I might have some idea, honey." He puts his arm around my shoulders and leads me from the kitchen. He takes off his armor and then hands me my coat.

"Where are we going, dear, and what do you think started things last night?"

Harm grins that flyboy grin that made me start to fall in love with him, despite what I told him the day we met. "Well, babe, we need to pick up Jace from AJ's, but we need to stop at the drugstore first."

"What for?"

"A pregnancy test."

"What?" What would this man know about…wait a minute…when was my last…oh my…

"The last time you got so mad at me for no reason was when you got pregnant with Jace."

Hmmmmm. He may have something there.

"Oh, and what actually started the fight was that sponge," he continues. "I left it in the sink again."

"That's right!" I crow. I wrap my arm around his waist as we exit our house and lean up to kiss his cheek. "I'll kill you later, sweetheart."

Harm pulls me closer into his side. "Fair enough, jarhead."

My Harm…before we finally admitted we loved each other, I'd dated a string of men who wanted to change me or wanted something from me. Harm, on the other hand…he's always accepted me for me, crazy temper and all, and damn if he doesn't make me laugh. He can be so serious and intense, but at home when we can just be "us" he makes me giggle all the time. That's right, I said giggle. I've tried to tell him marines don't giggle, but he's made it his personal mission to prove that untrue, and he always succeeds.

There are other differences between him and my previous boyfriends. He's such a gentleman. It's not like my previous relationships were with boorish buffoons, but Harm is something else. He opens every door for me, he always carries my groceries, and now that I'm most likely pregnant, he won't let me lift a finger.

Hmmm, now that I think about it…though Harm is most definitely more chivalrous than most, maybe the difference between my relationship with him and the others is that I let him do those things.

"Harm?" I say as he opens the car door for me.

"Yes, my love?"

"I love you." Harm smiles the smile he saves just for me. "And I'm so glad you stayed last night. I'm glad we both stayed."

"Me too. I love you, mommy."

"You really think I'm pregnant."

"Oh, yeah."

I slide into my seat. Another baby, I think. That would be wonderful. I'd love a brother or—

"Sister. Jace is going to have a sister." Harm sounds so certain, and since he correctly predicted Jace was a boy, I'll believe him.

Harm starts the car and pulls out of our driveway. We drive for a block or so before either of us speak again.

"Oh, Mac, baby. Thanks for breaking that vase."

"Uh, what, Harm?"

"That vase. My god, it was so ugly it damn near made me mad to look at it."

What?! "But I thought…I thought you loved the thing."

"Are you kidding? It was horrible! I thought you liked it!"

"So, you're saying that we've kept that thing on our mantle for the last four years because we each thought the other liked it?" Suddenly I'm laughing again, and a moment later he is as well. In fact, he's laughing so hard we have to pull over.

When we finally get ourselves together, I have to ask. "Harm, what are we going to do about Aunt Susan? Won't she miss it?"

"We'll just tell her the cat knocked it over."

"But we don't have a cat."

"Well, I guess we'll have to buy one of those today too."

And we do. The End


Track 10: The Last Time

December 2003

Harm

I find myself at her door once again, and I don't even know how I got here. I just started driving, and it's like every street, every road, every turn led me here. It's the way it always is for us. I'm a moth to her flame, and I know she'd say the same. I hold my breath and knock.

After I parked, I looked up at her apartment. The light was on in her bedroom, and I can picture her lying there all alone, eyes closed but not asleep. I pray she gets up and lets me in, because seeing her dark amber eyes looking into mine is the only thing that will make the ache in my heart go away.

I've really fucked up this time.

I've said many awful things to her, but what I said today was cruel.

Please let me in, Mac.

I need her. I love her, and that's why I've been so wretched to her.

I know that doesn't make any sense. It doesn't really make sense to me either, but I've always been an idiot when it comes to her.

The first time was when she tried to come to me for help with her not-quite-ex-husband. Then I had the nerve to be offended when she sought out John Farrow's help. I felt so betrayed that she never told me she was married and being the self-righteous bastard that I am, I punished her for it.

The next was when I left to fly. I knew she felt more for me than just friendship, because I felt the same, and yet I didn't tell her. I gave her some line about "what's love got to do with anything." What a bastard.

And then came Sydney. I turned her down, knowing we both wanted the same thing. I hurt her and then let her just go to Brumby without a fight. Then I had the nerve to be a jealous asshole about it.

The next time it wasn't really my fault. René's father died, and I couldn't just leave her then for Mac. I know Mac understood, but I should have done more to let her know what I wanted from her once all the dust had settled. By the time we met again on the Guadalcanal, she had erected all the walls around her heart again. I should have done more to break through. That part was my fault, and then I made that crack about all her boyfriends being dead or wishing they were. The look on her face when she heard that…it rather haunts my dreams.

That brings us to now. Well, there was Paraguay, but neither of us were at our best at the time. We both could have cut each other a little slack.

So, what did I say this time?

Well, this time, I threw her history of addiction in her face in the courtroom, and then I doubled down and did it again in front of the entire bullpen. She kept her head held high as she passed by me and went into her office, but because I know her so well, I caught the stricken look in her eyes as her body stiffened. She left shortly after that, not answering me when I called after her.

So here I am, hoping she'll open the door.

Mac

There's a pounding on my door, and I know it's Harm. I think about not answering it, given what he said today, but I suppose he's here to apologize. I might as well let him get it over with. I know it will be his typically half-assed arrogant "but can you blame me" apology, but if it makes him feel better…

I lift myself off my bed, where I've been lying for the last two hours. I haven't slept; I haven't cried, though I've felt like doing both. I feel rather dead inside, honestly, but I still make the journey to my door and pull it open.

"Mac," he says, and there are tears in his beautiful eyes. "I'm so sorry."

And just like that, everything is better, even though every time I've let him in to my heart, he's left. I let him in.

Harm

"Mac," I say when she opens her door. Tears fill my eyes, and when I look into hers, I see they are dry, though they are red-rimmed and bloodshot. "I'm so sorry."

She lets me in.

Mac

His apology is sincere this time. I know it. Oh, it's not like his other apologies weren't sincere, but they didn't come from the depths of his soul. This one does.

Or maybe I'm being an idiot. Too trusting yet again. I close the door and then turn toward him.

"Are you?" I ask. I know the answer, really, I do, but I need to hear it.

"Yes, Mac, and I know I'll never be able to make it up to you."

"You hurt me, Harm. More than you ever have before." I need to tell him this.

"I know, Mac."

"Why, Harm?" He looks down at his feet, not saying anything, until he does.

"Because I love you."

Harm

Mac's eyes widen and her mouth drops open when I utter the words I should have said years ago.

"No," she finally says in a near whisper. Now her eyes are wet, her tears making them glow golden in the soft light of her apartment. "You wouldn't say that if you loved me."

I swallow hard. "I know that's what it looks like…but…but…" I can't speak over the lump in my throat. I expect her to throw me out, but instead she just stands there, her arms folded across her chest. I don't expect her to do what she does next.

She holds out her hand to me. "Tell me, Harm."

Mac

Harm hesitates a moment before he takes my hand. I lead him to my couch and then I sit down next to him. "Tell me," I repeat.

"It's hard to. I mean, it's hard for me to apologize."

"I know, Harm. But try your best."

Harm nods and then lays his big hand over mine. "Mac, I have more to apologize for than just today."

It's my turn to nod. He does, but as hard as it is to admit, I've done and said things to him that deserve an apology from me. "Let's start with today," I say gently, turning my hand over to grip his. It's make or break time. Our entire relationship depends on this moment.

Harm

She tells me to start with today, and so I do. For once, we actually talk, and our conversation goes deep into the night. When it's over, we're both crying in each other's arms, and it honestly feels wonderful. When we calm, I lean away from her to look into her shining brown orbs.

"Mac, this is the last time I'll ask…because if…if we can't…Mac, have I broken us? Have I broken more than I can fix?"

Mac looks away and my heart sinks. "No, Harm…but my heart…it's easily broken, and you can do that in the blink of an eye. I can't just keep opening my door to you. This is the last time."

I close my eyes. She hasn't gotten that wrong. When I finally open my eyes again, I find her gazing at me expectantly, despite what she just told me. "Yes…it's the last time, Mac. I won't hurt you anymore."

Tears flow again, tears from both of us. She wraps her arms around me again, and her lips rise to mine. "And I won't hurt you. I love you, Harm."

"I love you too, Sarah. I love you too." The End


Track 11: Holy Ground

July 2005

I remember when Harm and I first met. It was in the White House Rose Garden, and at first glance, I loved him. He was a part of me before our mission in the Arizona desert was even over. Our first mission ended with jokes and laughter until I broke down and cried in his arms. We didn't need to have a conversation about it. He just knew all the reasons for my sobs. The lush Rose Garden and the arid Red Rock Mesa became holy ground.

Our relationship was one of deep friendship, one of volatile arguments, and sometimes I felt like I was still on the helicopter, pulling him aboard as my uncle flew us onward. I've been told "don't look down" many times, and with him I never did.

It was good.

That helicopter became holy ground too.

We should have put our egos aside long ago, but the next few years saw us trying to one up one another, even as we lied to ourselves about our love. It rather came to head one cool spring night, the night of my engagement party to Mic. We kissed on the admiral's porch, creating another spot of holy ground.

We should have gotten together after the demises of my relationship with Mic and his with René, but we didn't. We fell apart for a while, and just when I thought we were going to get it right, Singer's death and Paraguay happened, leaving unholy destruction behind. I told Harm never and found my way to Clayton Webb, and our destruction was complete…

I still saw his face in every crowd, even though I knew we were irrevocably broken-until he came back to JAG. Until I helped him with Mattie. And until I showed up at his door to his nearly packed apartment. We talked, we loved, and now a loft north of Union Station is also holy ground.

Harm and I have been through a lot, and tonight I'm going to dance for all of that. Not by myself, but with him. He's beside me now, asking what I'm doing out here on my own. He's dashing in his dress whites, and I know he thinks me beautiful in my own white garb. He tells me there are plenty of people who want to dance with the bride, but I tell him I don't want to dance if I'm not dancing with him.

Harm puts his arms around me and pulls me close, and I'm ready now to put the bast behind me. I'll never be looking back, only forward, and right here where we stand becomes our holy ground. Everywhere with him is holy ground. The End


Track 12: Sad Beautiful Tragic

September 2003

Mac

I've had the dream many times. I'm standing by a train which waits to take me to places unknown, and just as I'm boarding, he comes rushing toward me, taking a piece of paper out of his pocket. He's too late, though. I hold on as the train pulls away, the breeze created by it blowing the paper from his hand. I manage to catch it, and on it are written words of love. Sad.

We could have been magic, but it's over.

Harm

I've had this dream many times. I'm standing by the train tracks, holding a locket. I open it, and her picture stares back at me until I throw it under a passing train. I've got my demons, but now they all look like her, and I want it to stop. Sad.

We could have had a beautiful love affair, but that's all gone.

Mac

In dreams, I meet him in warm conversation. Our words are loving, our kisses gentle. It always ends the same way, though. I wake up in my same lonely bed. Everything is dark and black because I ruined everything. Tragic.

Everything could have been beautiful, but it's not.

Harm

In my dreams, we're always holding each other, laughing with each other, and I feel joyously happy until I wake up alone in my bed once again. The night is dark and heavy because my jealousy ruined everything. Tragic.

Everything with us should have been beautiful, but it isn't.

Mac

I've called him seventeen times, and each time the machine has picked up. He's never called me back, but I guess that's fitting, since I told him never on an oppressively warm night in Paraguay. I'm about to call him an eighteenth time, but before I can dial, I slam it back down in its cradle. Why do I keep trying? Why do I think I can fix this between us? I had the dream about the train again last night, but this time, instead of flying away from the station, it ran off the tracks. Derailed, just like us. I must be a masochist because I pick up the phone again and start dialing. I should hang up, give up, because we'll never get our friendship back, much less anything else.

Harm

She's called me seventeen times, but I've never answered or even listened fully to a single message. She told me never, so why should I ever speak to her again? Why should I just remain silent and come to terms with the fact that the distance between us will always be there. Our timing has always been off, our friendship permanently derailed. The life I wanted with her was never meant to be.

I dreamt again last night about the locket and the train, but when I tossed the locket away, it caused the train to run off the tracks. I know the whole thing is a metaphor for our relationship. I know it means I still love her, but what was beautiful and magic about us is over. I remember the fighting in Paraguay that caused everything to breakdown. It isn't salvageable. I know it, but in an impulsive moment, I grab my keys and just as I'm pulling up to her apartment, my cellphone rings.

Harm and Mac

Mac dials his number, vowing that this will be the last time she calls him. His phone rings once, twice…

Harm pulls his phone from his pocket and sees it's her again. He flips it open and, finger trembling, he pushes the green button that answers the phone. "Hello?" he says tentatively as he locks his car and heads toward her building.

"Harm? It's Mac." She's just as tentative.

"I know. Mac, I—"

"I miss you, Harm."

His heart pounds more than it should as he walks up the stairs to her floor. "I miss you too," he answers, stopping at her door. He raises his hand to knock.

Mac startles when she hears a knock at her door. Her heart pounds because she knows it's him. She opens the door.

"I'm sorry," they say at the same time, both hanging up their phones. They chuckle awkwardly, but then tears fill Mac's eyes and drip down her cheeks. Like he's done before, he brushes them aside and then he pulls her into his arms. She wraps his arms around his waist, and things are suddenly beautiful again. The End


End Side C