A/N: Alright, okay . . . so . . . um, wow – now that the kid has been born, it seems like the ending of this story is so near. Which is scaring me a bit, at the moment. It's stupid, but when I first began writing this story, I never had the feeling that it had to end. But now that it is . . . never mind, I'm just blabbering on. You don't want to read this, you want to read the story. So here goes . . .
Thanks go out to: Bite Beccy, Bail's Other Daughter, Steelo, Starryeyes10, Kitty X, martini1988, QueenOfAces, froggy0319, alix33, mjag, moonlight, nursejay80, AnMaDeRoNi, snugglebug, jaggurl, Anne, ficchic, dansingwolf, Radiorox, cbw, wishwaters, Rocket Rain, sgcgirl52, tlk29, JJScottishGirl, Blueangel, aj, French-navy girl, Marge, Jane, Tina Frank, highplainswoman, mac AND harm fan, Ali Baba, super ducky, tumblebuttons, AB, Abigiale, macandharmlover, jazzy, vhosek malacath, Britainy, MartiniMac, HighHeel Shoe Lover, Sirus 745, Fan, Pissed off Poet 1, southernqt, BrittanyLS, sugar230, K, Ilovemyselftoday, eggy weg, xobabygurlxo, Reni-Maniac, Cille, ForensicsFreak1988, HMtogether4ever, MaritzaCarmichael, Lara783, janessab, tizy, June, vrbinkaCZ, Cherise, DD2, Bekka, Lani-LoveNPain, Dessler, mommie, daisymh, Laura, confused, basketball babe8, Strawberry Kittens, rainydays502, S, Broesel, ady, Kristie, writingismything, TV Angel 711, TaTe.ArI.Obsessed.Writers, MiDushiNoSushi, Basketball Babe8, Alex, Angie, Toplesslemon, Jules, prinnie, CJKS, ninjagirl987, Brontesgirl, Jules, and Angie Capriatti for your wonderful reviews!
The Upside
1023
Bethesda Naval Hospital
Mac's POV
I have finally found the upside to child labor. And no, at the moment it's not that I got a kid out of it, that's expected – it's the breakfast they serve the morning afterwards! Honestly, after being so culinarily deprived, the scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, buttered bagel, and muffin were little gifts of heaven. And now I sit here, wolfing down a breakfast that Harm would lecture me on if he were here, and grinning like I just inherited a million dollars. Albeit, I still feel dull pangs of pain every now and again, but at the moment I'm just happy that I'm deflated. I can see my feet again!
"Ma'am?"
I look up from my breakfast tray to see Harriet and Bud enter the room, their little troop marching behind. I smile and wave them in as both AJ and Jimmy jump up on my bed (and I wince as Jimmy hits a particularly painful spot).
"Hey all," I grin cheerfully, letting AJ and Jimmy split my muffin. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"
"Boy or girl?" Harriet demanded instantly.
My expression is highly affronted. "I just give birth to a seven pound bowling ball and the first thing you want to know is its gender?"
"What's a gender?" AJ asked me from beside me, his mouth full of muffin crumbs.
"Whether you're a boy or a girl," Bud explains monotonously. I suppose if I lived with AJ 24/7 I would sound like that too.
"But I thought Aunt Mac just said it was a bowling ball," AJ replied, a frown flickering upon his confused face. "Do bowling balls have genders?"
"No."
"Then how come . . .?"
"That's enough, AJ," Harriet replied, conveniently shushing her son as Bud began to open his mouth. "Now is it a boy or a girl?"
"I'm deeply offended you have inquired nothing about my health," I stated stubbornly, but an amused smile flickering upon my lips as I let Harriet sweat it out.
Harriet rolled her eyes. "How are you doing?"
"Quite, well, thank you," I grin, my voice suddenly increasing dramatically, diving into a Shakespearean tone. "This morning I awoke to a beautiful bath of sunlight filtering in through my curtains . . ."
"You had a bath?" AJ interrupted.
I pause. "Uh, no . . . see, it was a bath of sunlight."
"I've never had a bath of sunlight."
"Well, it wasn't really a bath of," I begin but Harriet just hushes AJ again.
"Is it a boy or a girl?" Harriet demands, suddenly unable to prevent the silence that shone within her eyes.
I smiled. "Boy."
Harriet squeals in delight. AJ turns to me, "so your bowling ball's a boy?"
I open my mouth to reply but Bud just scoops AJ and Jimmy off the bed, leaving the twins in their stroller by the foot of the bed. "You know what – I'm going to go down to the cafeteria and see if I can get the boys something to eat. Get them out of your hair a little while," Bud smiles at me, "Congratulations, ma'am."
"Thank you, Bud," I smiled back, as Harriet took a seat beside me.
"So . . ." she whispered, looking at me. "Have you got a name yet?"
I sighed, shifting positions on the bed as I took in a mouthful of scrambled eggs. "A few playing around in my head . . ." I cast an annoyed glance at the ground. "You know, I'm beginning to think labor was actually easier than this."
Harriet casts an amused glance at me. "Easier than picking out a name?"
"Well, it was obviously easier for YOU, Harriet," I point out, taking a sip of orange juice. "You had names you liked, Bud had names he liked, and you just crossed off names from the other's list that you didn't like, therefore narrowing it down to a small number to choose from. I have no one to cross names off my list!" I cried, a touch too dramatic for my liking.
"Run some by me," Harriet said soothingly but I shook my head, placing a finger to my temple and rubbing.
"Nothing seems right to me at the moment," I explained, sighing discontentedly. "I keep waiting for the right name to just jump out at me, but so far that plan's been pretty much non-operational."
"Where is he?" Harriet whispered.
I smiled, getting up from my bed with (a little) help from Harriet. "I'll show you."
We walk down the hall, talking rather companionably with each other and it is right then that I feel a large stab of guilt hit me. Harriet and Bud should know . . . everyone else does. That little annoying voice at the back of my mind says, 'It's on a need to know basis.' And deep at the bottom of my heart I knew they didn't need to know. But it was just so hard keeping something as big as this away from them.
I approach the glass window that separates Harriet and me from the baby room. Placed in little rows, the newborns look up at us through the glass, all dressed in white. I smile as I detect my son in the top left corner, fast asleep, his round little face peeping up from the surrounding white covers. And then the slightly guilty feeling crept back again. All the little baby cribs had signs with names on them, most first and last. But my boy had only 'Mackenzie' written on it. I frowned in frustration. A name could come to me at any time now.
"He's adorable!" Harriet squealed, "And he looks so much like you!"
That was true. His small face mirrored my own in ways of features, the only difference being the small sprinkle of freckles that dotted his nasal area. And don't get me wrong, he was the beautiful little boy I always imagined having, but for some reason this nagging regret keeps weighing on me – wishing he looked a little more like Harm.
Which would be dangerous, I know. If he bore a striking resemblance to Harm, Abbas may be able to draw the connection. So I should be grateful really, that our son turned out the way he did. Then how come I feel so guilty? Guilty that he looks like me? Guilty that he'll take my name? Guilty that he'll never know his father?
Don't think about that! I mentally scream to myself. You're lucky everything turned out the way it did. You're lucky he was even born. And I knew I was too. I loved that little boy with all my heart, so how come nothing felt enough? How come everything I wanted suddenly seemed out of my grasp? I hung my head. This was not the time to screw up. Someone else was now depending on me. And I couldn't fail him. I cast another long look at my son who laid curled up in the corner, blissfully slumberous. I can't fail him now. Not ever.
I feel a sob taking over my body, and I do my best to hold it in but I'm shaking. He'll never know Harm . . . Harm will never know him. God, why did life have to be so cruel? Why did we have to part? Why was I the one given this little miracle, why not Harm? And you know what the cruelest part of it all was? This was my fault.
If I hadn't gone with Webb to Paraguay, Harm would have never come after me. And if he hadn't come after me, he never would have lost his job. If he hadn't lost his job at JAG, he would never have had to join the CIA. And if he hadn't joined the CIA, he would have never wound up in Manila. And if he hadn't landed in Manila, he wouldn't have had to kill all those potential terrorists. And if he hadn't, there would be no man hiring Abbas at the moment trying to kill Harm off. And if Abbas wasn't trying to kill Harm, he would be standing right beside me at this very moment, looking at our son and cheerfully picking out names.
Everything was my fault.
"Mac, are you okay?" Harriet's voice is concerned, as I lean against the wall, uttering a completely heart-wrenched sob.
"No, Harriet," I whispered, futilely attempting to steady myself. "Nothing's okay. I've got the world's most beautiful son and he's not here with me."
I know what I'm saying, I know how thin a line I'm walking but right now all I can think about is how my life is falling apart one person at a time. And I can't let Harm fall. I can't let him be just another man in my life – he means so much more to me than that. He can't go, I can't let him go. This is as much his family as it is mine and I won't let it be ripped apart. Not for all the assassins in the world.
"But, Mac, who is he?" Harriet pressed gently, wrapping an arm around me comfortingly.
I shook my head more to myself than anyone. If I was going to be able to help Harm, Harriet couldn't know. Or could she? Undoubtedly I could trust her. But I didn't want either her or Bud risking themselves for me. They had a family, they had each other. I couldn't do that to them. But what if I didn't ask them to take any risks? Then it would all be okay, wouldn't it?
"Look, Harriet," I whispered, my voice expressing the despair that was tearing me apart internally. "I can't . . . or, I can . . . Harriet, he's . . ." I'm struggling for my words. "Harriet, the father's –"
"Me."
Both of us whirl around so fast I swear we have whiplash. Clay stands there, for once dressed out of the usual formal attire. He wears semi-baggy jeans, and a see-through white button down shirt that falls well over his belt. He smiled at me, walking over and kissing my forehead. "Good morning, Mac."
"Morning, Clay," I replied quietly, my eyes not quite meeting his. Harriet looked between the two of us almost disbelievingly. I guess she thought I'd learned my lesson – which I had. Unfortunately for me, that would soon not be the perception of the rest of the world.
"How's he doing?" Clay asked, peering through the glass at my son, who promptly yawned in his sleep. "God, he's cute."
It seemed rather strange to see Clay so obviously paternal. In fact, his face genuinely displayed signs of affection. And had I not known that Clay wasn't the father, I might have thought he was. He really did act the part.
"Perhaps I should leave you two," Harriet smiled reassuringly at me, embracing me once more. "I'll come by tomorrow morning if you haven't been discharged yet. And in the mean time," she smiles at the both of us now, "I hope you guys find a name."
We stand there and watch Harriet disappear down the hall and turn in the direction of the cafeteria. After four deliveries I guess Harriet knows her way around pretty well. I turn back to Clay who motions with his hand for us to go back into my room and I nod in consent. I enter the room and sit down on the bed, picking up my breakfast tray once more as Clay shuts the door behind him.
"What the hell were you doing?" Clay snaps as soon as the silence falls between us. "You were going to tell her."
I refuse to meet the eyes that glare at me so piercingly. "She should know."
"Mac, we've been over this!" Clay sighs impatiently. "You're putting them at risk! And I KNOW you don't want to do that. It's unnecessary. When we catch Abbas they'll be able to find out, but until then they're just an accessory. We don't need them yet, Mac."
"Oh, so that's what this is all about!" I shouted back, my temper suddenly spiking. "Yup, let's just keep everyone in the dark until we decide to use them. Yes, as soon as we decide we need them, let's let them risk their lives for us. Right, and until then – they can just remain ignorant, right, Webb?"
"Mac, you know that's not what I meant," Clay's voice remains firm. "I'm just saying you shouldn't tell Bud and Harriet."
"But why not, Webb?" I scream back. "Why can't we just put a little trust in the people around us? Why can't we just believe in someone for once? Is that so damn hard? Not everything NEEDS a reason, Webb! Not everyone needs to be used to their "full potential". Sometimes it's just nice to confide!"
I slam my mattress in emotion, leaning back forcefully against my pillow. "But never mind. You wouldn't be able to understand."
Clay stares at me for a moment, his cool grey eyes falling upon my angry brown ones before he sat down in the chair next to me, heaving a weary sigh as I turned away from him. "Mac, would you look at me?"
I stared down at my sheets.
"Look, Marine, I didn't want anything like this to ever happen," Clay whispered, sincerity managing to creep its way into his voice. "I didn't want you to ever have to get involved. I certainly didn't want its outcome."
He steered my face towards his so our eyes link. "But I'm sure as hell glad you did get involved." I stare at him for a minute – did I hear right? "Now Rabb's got more motivation than ever to catch Abbas. And in some insane way you've managed to tame Jake, an impossible feat. Mac, I'm indescribably glad to have you on our team, but please," his eyes flashing me an earnest look, "leave the recruiting to me."
I smile at Clay as just then one of the nurses walked in carrying my son who began to cry as soon as he saw me. Lovely. Taking him out of the nurse's hands I cradled him maternally, willing him both mentally and verbally to stop crying. Clay watched me from his standing position by the bed. "You know, you're really good at that."
I looked up at him, my eyebrow cocked up. "Huh?"
"You know," Clay replied, gesturing at us, "the whole parent, mother thing . . ."
I smile at Clay sincerely, "I've only been a mother for less than half a day."
"Well, you're a natural then," Clay grinned. I turned back to my baby, smiling at him as he gurgled in happiness, crying subsiding. "Mac, you know you can't name him after Harm."
I turn to him, my eyes flashing but I utter no words.
"Mac . . ." Clay trailed, his voice taking on a warning tone. "That would make you and your son a target. You can't name him Harmon. It's too dangerous."
I hold Clay's stare for a second and then I nod, turning back to the precious life that lays cradled in my arms. My baby looks back at me innocently, his bright blue eyes smiling at me as he fidgets within the blanket.
"Say it with me now," Clay said humorously, as he touched his finger to my son's cheek. "You're not going to name him Harm."
I rolled my eyes, "I'm not going to name him Harm."
"Good," Clay replied factually, suddenly walking away from the bed. "I've got to go – things to do, places to see, people to piss off . . ."
"You're meeting Kovac today?" I asked, shifting a little in the bed so I could get into a more comfortable position.
"Yes," Clay replied, his voice toning the right amounts of dread and reluctance. "Say, if I don't make it out alive, you think there's any chance you could name that little guy after me?"
I smiled sweetly at him, "Not a one."
Clay shrugged good-naturedly as he headed out the door. "I'll come by and see you tonight."
"Okay," I called to his retreating form, as Clay disappeared down the same hallway Harriet had. I looked back down at my son, who stared right back up at me as he sucked on his own finger. I had a few serious hours of name searching to do . . .
Twenty Minutes Later
CIA Headquarters
Clay's POV
"Have you come to me with an answer, Webb?" Kovac's voice rings out strong and true, as he leans himself against his desk, staring at me intently with his piercing dark eyes.
I quaver slightly, "Yes, I have."
Kovac adjusts his glasses. "And?"
I shake my head, "I'm sorry, Sir. But what you're asking me to do would be going against what I believe is right. I can't abandon my friend when his life is in danger, and I certainly can't desert a chance to capture a murderous assassin." My eyes plead with him silently. "If there was any other way . . ."
"There isn't, Webb," Kovac cuts me short, his dark eyes flashing. "This is the end of the line."
"Well, with all due respect, I really wish it wasn't," I said passionately, staring up at Kovac with as much strength as I could muster. "But if you're asking me to chose between my job, and what's right – it's really no choice at all."
A long silence follows my speech and then, "I assume Azhad and Holter are joining you on this little escapade of yours?"
I look down at the ground. "That wasn't my choice, Sir."
"Of course not," Kovac replied, walking over to his chair and taking a seat. "Just like your choice to remain on the Rabb case wasn't theirs. But somehow you three always end up taking the same road, don't you?" His eyes glint. "The Three Musketeers."
I remain silent.
"Well," Kovac sighed. "The office will be quiet without you three." He laughed hollowly. "Maybe even a little dull."
I nodded wordlessly. Kovac smiled at me, "Good bye, Webb." And he extended a hand.
I shook it. "Sir."
Kovac smiled sadly at me as he led me out of his office. "It was nice knowing you."
Hours Later
Bethesda Naval Hospital
Mac's POV
Not Harm . . . not Harm . . . not Harm
I stared down at my son who yawned tiredly from within my arms. My fingers ran through the few strands of dark brown hair that blossomed from atop of his head. No, I couldn't name him Harmon. I couldn't name him after . . .
And then I stared at my little boy again, and for a reason unbeknownst to me, something Harm once said to the Admiral and I floated back to me. Something I'd forgotten about till now . . .
"I realize I'm more of a hunter, sir . . . you know, attacking with sticks and stones," Harm looks at the Admiral who just returns a completely baffled stare. "You know, instead of in the cave dividing up the meat."
And I grinned suddenly, recalling the memory over the friendly fire incident. What a hard headed judge Harm had been. I looked down at my baby, who gurgled at me. "Yeah, that's your daddy," I whispered to him, kissing his forehead softly. "He was always a little stubborn." A smile lit my lips as I sighed, "But I loved him anyway."
And just then I found the upside of the scenario–I realized his name didn't have to be Harmon to be named after him. I stared down at my little boy as he reached up his small hand to grab hold of one of my fingers. I smiled at him, holding him close to my body.
Hunter Ashton Mackenzie. Hunter Ashton Rabb Mackenzie. H.A.R.M.
Harm . . .
A/N: Thanks to Tizy who donated the name Hunter and to rainydays502 who donated the name Ashton. I loved pretty much every name given to me but unfortunately I couldn't use them all!
A/N2: And props once again to Jamie who did the unbelievable right from the very beginning and proclaimed it was a boy and on top of that guessed the correct name! Sheesh, why do I bother writing plots when you can predict 'em? LOL
Starryeyes10: thanks
ForensicsFreak1988: LOL, I'm sorry – that is pretty weird. Reading other people's responses, I mean. But you're not alone in that category. Some other people have told me they do it too. And you're right, watching JAG and eating isn't as bad as watching CSI and eating because CSI shows you all the gruesome bodies and etc. But what can you say? You get hooked and suddenly it's your everyday lifestyle. (Oh, and you know in HBP that note that some guy left in the cave part? The R.A.B. thing? You have any idea who it is?)
Steelo: yeah, but you know who the snitch is, you cheater! LOL, no virtual cookie for you. Just hurry up and read the rest of the chapters and get caught up! I know I update fast and that you're sick, but still – no excuse! You're giving Cinderella more attention than you are my story! Lol
Brontesgirl: thanks, and don't worry about the Abbas thing. You'll see what happens . . . soon.
Jamie: I cannot believe you got the right name and gender! For one thing, you were the ONLY person that guessed it was a boy, and on top of that you got the name. I was so astonished when I read your review I immediately forwarded it to my friend Steelo (who knew the name in advance, having helped me pick it out) and I was like 'yay! Someone's going to like the name!' (I was kind of worried that no one would like the name I picked cuz it's kind of unusual). And I really would have taken Quinn as a possibility, but my friend Steelo (mentioned her already) her boyfriend's name is Quinn and she's got dibs on the name, apparently. LOL, friends are funny that way . . .
Broesel: Ah, I'm getting so close to the ending! At the end I resolve the Clay/Vera/Jake triangle, and the Abbas thing, and the Harm/Mac/baby thing and now I'm getting all excited for the ending – and I'm just praying I can get this story done before school starts. Three weeks . . . that should be enough. LOL, I know – when women are under intense physical pain, you have no idea what might come out of their mouth next.
Pissed Off Poet 1: omg, okay – now I feel like I owe you an explanation. See, when I began writing Full Throttle, I had everything all planned out. Mac and Harm were going to have a girl named Taylor. And it was simple as that. And then I thought – hey, let's let the reviewers pick the middle name. So I asked for name donations. And then everyone pretty much stated 'it's a girl'. And that annoyed the heck out of me, cuz I like surprising people with the little twists to my plot. And then I looked around at the other stories and realized that there were dozens of baby girl ones but only a handful of boy ones. And in my vain attempt for uniqueness, I changed the gender last minute, and then I came up with that whole HARM thing – but again, I REALLY loved the name Taylor cuz that was what I was going to originally use. But hey, you never know . . . I'm seriously considering writing a sequel to this story. Taylor might still have a hope.
Toplesslemon: ah yes, you just had to shatter the illusion, didn't you? LOL, Jen's a nice name though. Jen the Topless lemon. I like it. My mum and my teachers love to gang up on me when it comes to writing, 'cause I spend all day doing it. I'm serious, my time it's three thirty in the morning and I'm sitting here typing up a new chapter. That's me – whenever creativity hits, I have to write. Even if it's on like a napkin or something, I've got to do it. My teachers find it extremely annoying. Well, one of them does. My creative writing teacher. He thinks I'm – and I quote – "wasted talent". LOL, needless to say he doesn't approve of me . . . of course, that's why I've got to keep doing this – just to piss him off! (Good luck on trying to pass this story off as homework . . . I've tried doing that too, needless to say 'The Fine Art of Dating' was no scientific breakthrough my teacher was hoping I was reading)
Snugglebug: I'm glad Harm got to be there too. I was seriously contemplating whether or not his presence was required. And then in the end it seemed like the nice thing to do.
Froggy0319: ah well, I didn't think he was going to be there, either. I changed it last minute cuz I thought Harm being there was the right thing to do. Plus, I wove it into the story. Before I was going to have Harm break into the hospital while Clay and him are doing the rounds to pick up other agents but then I was like – nah, let Mac see everyone for herself. Plus, letting the Admiral deliver was fun to write.
Radiorox: LOL, I don't think Jake has offered any objections!
Sugar230: ah, I contemplated for such a long time between Adam and Ashton. They sounded sort of the same but I told you, I'm a real thinker. So in the end I did what DPB did – I flipped a coin.
Bite Beccy: I wouldn't so much as call it blackmailing, rather unorthodox motivation. LOL
alix33: Ah, Harry James, how . . . unique. LOL, this morning I spent hours on the internet looking up any possibilities for the mysterious R.A.B. in the end of the sixth book – and the possibilities are slim to none. Ah, JKR's foiled me again.
MiDushiNoSushi: LOL, that's the brilliant thing with love triangles. No matter how hard you try and fight it (Clay being a bastard in the show and all) you end up seeing all three sides, which really sucks if you're a narrow minded person (like me). But don't worry . . . when the ending comes, there's a solution for the infamous triangle. You'll see . . . (not to be mysterious, or anything – lol)
Abigaile: lol, stumbling through a stupid door . . . yep, there's an adventurous ending . . . lol, but don't worry – Mac and Harm'll get through this thing. You'll see.
Daisymh: thanks
Lani: I know, she does look young. I mean, DJE's the greatest and all, but he is starting to show his age, as much as I hate to admit it. But CB . . . never would have guessed it. And no, I do not believe Mac, Harm, and Co. qualify as normal people.
Vhosek malacath: killer caught . . . don't worry, on my 'to do' list.
Maritza Carmichael: well, here's a chapter for you . . .
Jules: adopting . . . excellent idea. That's the road I'll head on if I ever want kids. (My friends were absolutely mortified to find out I had no plans on having kids when I grew up – they've already got the names of their future kids planned out and how far apart in age they'll be)
Eggy weg: thanks
Angie capriatti: thanks, and I hope I didn't disappoint you with this chapter.