Chapter 16 - Intuitions

Mac awoke to a serene warmth in the arms of a man she loved for so long. It surprised her at first to find she'd been wrapped in his embrace. Harm practically lay on the edge of the bed in effort to keep some space between them when she asked him to stay.

She remained on her side as well but it appeared that in the middle of the night they gravitated to one another, evident by the fact that they were now in the middle. His warm breath fanned over her skin, the gentle inhale and exhale a calming influence she needed. Mac felt small wrapped in his embrace but protected all the same.

Waking up like this, with him felt normal, familiar as if it had been a practice for some time. She wondered if this was what it felt like to be his wife? To wake up surrounded in his warmth, his scent, his bed. She nearly laughed at the absurdity of it, Harmon Rabb Jr. would never, ever marry anyone. She'd come to conclude he would rather keep options open than to tie himself down.

And yet, she had to ponder why she knew certain things, little facts like the kind of razors he preferred or that Harm shaved after he showered. She knew his brand of aftershave. The cologne he wore but, more specifically where he would spray it - a spritz on his chest, elbows, wrists. Never on his clothes. It ensured the scent would linger.

She knew he didn't just own white boxer briefs but had an array of nicer ones for date nights and when he had on his blues. The lighter boxers were mostly reserved for the months when the uniform of the day was his whites. Mac also knew to what side he 'dressed' and that it changed due to the stitching on his jeans.

Harm liked the color blue but, specifically cerulean. He had tiny scars on his knee that weren't noticeable unless close enough to see them - an injury sustained when he was 13 and built a ramp out of old wood in his grandmother's farm. He tried to jump a bicycle over the ramp but "crashed and burned" - his words.

There were so many nuances, like the fact that he only snored if he had a cold, he liked to lay on his back at first and then would turn to his left side to sleep - her side. All these little details that even as his best friend she wouldn't have really known and yet, each were filed and categorized in her mind. Perhaps she was losing it? Maybe making things up?

Several hours she spent in his arms falling in and out of sleep until her stomach began to protest and she managed to slip out of his arms without waking him. Harm was exhausted, she could tell by the glassy sheen to his eyes when they talked the night before.

Quietly she left the bedroom and stopped to really take a look at the cabin. There was something familiar ablur this place too like She'd been there before as obscured as that sounded. In the kitchen Mac could find utensils, pots, pans, plates, cups without having to search.

The place had been quaintly rustic at some point and now modern conveniences complimented the small home. All the appliances were new, the floors had been redone and even the land, that she could could see from the kitchen window, had been cleared a little. "Why do I know that?"

Intuition? Time travel? Maybe she was a witch?

Mac snorted at the last thought aa she pulled open the refrigerator door in search for sustenance. "Oooh." She had pulled out a carton of eggs and behind it were three tubes of refrigerated biscuits, her Sunday morning indulgence.

They were light and flaky, delectable when smothered in butter and Harm had teased her mercilessly about how unhealthy they were. And yet, he brought her some. "You sweet, sweet man."

She grabbed a tube, set out the butter and happily began to make breakfast.

Funnily enough it was the sweet smell of freshly baked dough that pulled Harm out of his slumber. He rolled onto his back, keeping his eyes closed to hear her puttering around the kitchen. Nazanin would never cook for herself. in the short days they were together, he discovered she hadn't the faintest idea how to cook or even maKe a pot of coffee.

He'd teased Mac about her culinary skills when in fact she found her way perfectly well inside a kitchen. Her penchant for TV dinners, take out and those bloody Beltway Burgers was nothing more than a way to survive long work hours when she was too tired to cook. Hell, if he had her metabolism he'd indulge in junk foods a little more. Unfortunately, he gained weight too easily and it forced him to a cleaner food regiment.

Harm sighed. He was thankful for a dreamless night of deep sleep. He was even more grateful to wake up in the middle of the night to find Mac in his arms. It was a dream, he surmised until she shifted and scooted closer. She still fit him, still curled up a certain way as if they were designed for one another.

Mac had marveled that fact on their wedding night when they were both blissfully sated and in need of sleep. 'We fit together.'

'Fit together? We're not a puzzle.' He tried to play it off, never wanting to show more emotion than needed, still holding back something for reasons he now couldn't explain.

She'd smacked him on the arm none too softly. 'I mean it, we do...Look.' She even threaded her fingers through his, snuggled impossibly closer so that her smaller body molded against him. Now he would admit that she'd been right, that some heavenly being had brought them together and would for all time. Years could pass and fundamentally, he knew, they would always come back to one another.

As he walked into the kitchen, he stopped to watch her. The woman still had the loveliest figure, curves in all of the right places. Her hair though, was something to behold falling down below her buttocks and he wasn't quite sure if he liked that or not. It wasn't her, he thought because the long hair never suited his Mac but was a product of being Nazanin. Farid probably enjoyed that kind of thing, forcing her to be submissive enough that even the pleasure of a good trim would be denied. The more he thought about the other man, the more he loathed him. How far had they taken things with her?

As her 'husband', even as a farce, they sure had...sex. That thought alone was enough to make his blood start to boil into the steely hatred he'd tampered down for her sake. Harm knew he couldn't do a damned thing about it and chose not to dwell on those unpleasant thoughts. He should have killed Farid at the museum. Should have emptied the magazine until there was nothing left but the click of the hammer against the firing pin. It would have done nothing, he was sure, probably kept Mac a prisoner in Nazanin's life just over the trauma of seeing her pseudo husband killed. But he would have loved the chance to exact that kind of revenge.

Mac felt the second he'd come into the kitchen, that zing between them had never ever diminished through the years. It didn't matter if she was with Mic or he was with Renee, she felt it and always would. Utterly unnerving it had been pulling between them since the meeting at the rose garden so many years ago and had taken all of her resolve to keep herself in check. The sensation scared her because she knew what dating a coworker could do and wasn't willing to risk her new position at JAG for anything in the world. If being with Farrow taught her one thing was to not dip her pen in company ink and yet, Harm had dug his way into her very soul. There had been no turning back. "You just gonna stand there or you gonna set the table?"

Her voice forced the air he was holding out of his lungs. Everyday had become a trial of sorts and the apprehension that she could wake up one morning and not remember him scared Harm to death. "Aye ma'am."

"You made fun of those." Mac pointed out when Harm scarfed down a third biscuit. She was eyeing him over the brim of her mug, hiding the satisfied smirk at seeing her health nut eat something that was full of calories and probably had more chemical preservatives than embalming fluid. It was nice to see him have such a hearty apatite but then, she surmised he likely hadn't eaten much or taken care of himself because he was too busy with her.

That smirk of his was as deadly, as sexy as his flyboy smile. It was mischievous and he had the audacity to blush. "They really aren't healthy. You know."

She rolled her eyes, the food war was not something she would ever win with him. "Do you think we can go into town? The weather cleared, it looks like it will be a beautiful day."

Harm followed her gaze noting that though the dark clouds blue skies and sun were fighting their way. It would likely get chilly but barrable to cross the river and head to town. "You sick of my company?"

"No. I'm sick of my hair." She grabbed a fistful of her locks and held them up. Sarah MacKenzie had never been much for long hair. It was a pain to keep up for the military, regulation buns gave her a headache and overall, it was annoying to wash and dry. This was just ridiculously long and made her skull hurt.

Harm sat back noticing how she fiddled with it, trying to tame the locks into a braid. He smiled, maybe they hadn't completely lost their sync after all? "I have to see about a new window for the bedroom. I'm sure their Mainstreet had a salon you can get all dolled up at. Mac? Where you going?"

She shot up out of her chair with as much exuberance as a small child. "To get dressed. Hurry up, flyboy. Time's a wastin'!"

Mac sat at the bow as they made the trek up the river. The wind was brisk but tolerable and sue found the sun a welcomed sight. Homes dotted the coastline as the river emptied out to a large lake and Harm opened up the engines until he neared a buoy near the marina.

This too wasn't foreign, Mac found and instinctually knew she'd been here once before. How and why she'd probe him about later when they returned to the cabin because she knew her flyboy would likely clam up in public. She hoped out and tied the lines over one cleat and then the other securing that the small vessel would not drift off and then followed Harm to the parking lot expecting to find his Lexus which was not there. Of course it wouldn't be, that had been purchased too many years ago and other that his beloved Corvette, Harm was the kind of guy that wouldn't likely be in the same car for too long. "You bought a Range Rover?"

"We did. You bought it with me." They'd bought it before he'd made a mess of their marriage in effort to encourage 'fun' outings on the weekends that would keep them out of the shadow of DC. He rather liked the outdoorsy stuff and due to spending a good chunk of her childhood with her Uncle Matt, Mac too had developed a love for hiking, camping and other outdoor activities. "Like the color?"

"I do. I like it a lot, actually." A green that was almost grey metallic, the interior trim a dark beige and he'd upgraded the wheels to an expensive sports model. "It's something I'd pick."

She had picked it almost four years ago. "You have good taste. Hop in."

Harm navigated the vehicle away from the marina and into the small city that was beaming with life. The Mainstreet was full of shoppers, locals and many out of towners that would stay the weekend to indulge in small town life and antiquing.

He slipped the SUV into a spot just in front of the salon and quickly hopped out to open the door for Mac. She hated such gestures, even during their short marriage but his mother hand raised him to be a gentleman and he really couldn't help himself. Of course, she was halfway out of the car when he reached her. "Mac, can you give a guy a break?"

She rolled her eyes, folded herself back into the car and shut the door almost laughing as Harm pulled the door open again with an exasperated sigh. "Thank you, Sailor."

The whole show played out in front of salon window catching the eye of Tina Richardson, the owner who had seen Harm around town a few times. She heard stories about a Commander in the US Navy who had a home on the river, mostly gossip about a man like that living alone. Some claimed he'd once been married in their church, others figured he was running away from something. Whatever the case the Commander was an attractive one that drew attention the second he stopped into a room. Tina had spotted him at a local water hole once sitting at the end of the bar barely watching a football game. He'd had several shots of bourbon and was nursing a beer. He seemed like her type if only for the night but he didn't even seem to notice her despite serving him drink after drink.

Brooding. Was the one word that would best describe him because he never did smile and if attempted it would be terse at best. Not once did he try to engage her in conversation although she was attractive in her own right. Now she knew why.

The woman he was with was striking, elegant. The pair made an exquisite couple although Commander Brooding seemed to be keeping his distance somewhat. They came into her shop and so she plastered on a fake smile and regarded the pair. "Hello there, may I help you?"

"I am desperately in need of a haircut." Mac turned to show the woman and offered a pleading look. "I don't mind waiting but it has to go." Thankfully the place was empty except for one woman sitting under a hairdryer.

Harm slid two hundred dollars onto the counter and smiled that flyboy way that made most women's knees buckle. Tina was no exception and she figured that with a smile like his life must have been quite the adventure. "Whatever the lady wants it's on my dime." He turned to the woman a hand casually grazing the side of her arm stopping just at her wrist where the bandage began. "I'll be back soon. Will you be okay?"

"Do I have to give you my 'I'm a Marine' speech?"

"Heh. No. I'll see you in a few hours." The charm softened, replaced by the tender concern of a man very much in love. She expected him to kiss the woman but was surprised when he simply left only to linger for a few minutes outside the door. It figured a guy like that would want a woman like the tall brunette.

"Let me guess, boyfriend?" Tina questioned and her eyes dropped down to the woman's hands noting the empty ring finger. "I would say husband but no rings on either of you."

"What? Oh, no. We're just friends...Close friends but just friends." Mac brushed her thumb over her finger feeling as if something was indeed missing. It was bare, which made sense given the assignment with Webb but had their been something other than her USMC ring? The thought made her take pause like a part of her life was simply cut out. Fragments fell into place but others had not, she knew. Why was it so right to sleep wrapped up in him? Why was it so depressing to call him just a 'friend' as if it were such a dirty word. He glanced up to look at the woman who was now regarding her with a softer expression. "Yeah, we're just... friends."

"Uh huh. No man looks at a woman the way he does you and is 'just friends'." Tina grinned knowingly.

"You might want to mention that to him. I'm pretty sure he took an oath to stay far away from me." Mac wasn't usually so candid but, at the moment she didn't care, simply shrugged and shook the negative thoughts of out her head.

"Hmmm. He playing hard to get? I know the type, acts like a jerk when you try to move on but doesn't state his feelings around you?"

Mac eyebrows furled. She never heard someone peg Harm so well. "Something like that, yeah."

"I've seen him in town once or twice a month for the past few years. Doesn't talk much, never goes home with anyone and now I see why. My advice, don't give up on him." Tina winked at Mac. "So you want a cut. Hair that long we can donate."

"Donate?"

"Yes. There are foundations that use it to make wigs for children undergoing chemo. Makes them feel a little normal." She walked around the counter and took the edges of Mac's hair in her hand. "With your permission of course."

"I would love to help."

"C'mon, let's get to work and get you looking good for that man of yours."

Harm stood outside the salon window for several long minutes feeling like a stalker until the rational side of him kicked into gear. he hated leaving her alone but he knew damned well Mac could take care of herself. Given that no one knew where they were and that it was unlikely he was spotted kidnapping Nazanin, made him feel a little at ease. In love with the woman or not, he sure as hell wasn't going to hang around while she did 'girlie stuff.' He would give her space and in the meantime set to find a replacement window for the bedroom and a few other things to keep the cabin in top shape.

She'd been so thrilled on the trip over that her exuberance was contagious. It made him smile now as he walked down the Mainstreet to the hardware store. He never thought that a haircut would be much source of such happiness but she was giddy from the prospect of getting rid of the length and possibly getting her nails done. He rolled his yes, women and glam never ceased to amaze him. Although, Mac was the kind of girl that really didn't need much to look good. She was sexy no matter if she had ten pounds of make up or woke up with dark circles under her eyes and messy hair. He kind of preferred the messy hair, properly made love to look himself but that was for his eyes only.

Most of the women in his life changed when the make up was spackled on, Mac was just attractive, period. There were differences now, of course, three years of living God knows what kid of life had aged her just a little but with Nazanin gone, it was like even those age lines had disappeared. She was lovely, always had been but seeing her again made him appreciate her all the more.

After placing an order for a new window he'd gone shopping for clothing, a goose down burgundy jacket and gloves for her and a few essentials for him for the early Winter weather that was being reported around town. Even in the sun, the breeze had cooled and there was a report of an early snow fall in the next days. He'd also stocked up on food, a new axe to cut wood (he'd broken the last one in one of his tantrums) and picked up a few Clancy novels she might enjoy. After tossing them all in the back of the car he checked his watch to find that three hours had passed.

When he walked into the salon it would be to the sound of raucous female laughter that ceased the second he stepped food into the shop. There were six women, five of which sat at different stations but all were keenly eyeing the brunette seated on circular sofa in the center. She was beautiful, although that word wouldn't ever describe just how good Mac looked. Her freshly cut hair came down just past her jawline in a medium bob cut. Auburn highlights flowed through the strands and made him recall the first time he'd noticed them in her hair - on the deck of a carrier when she stepped off of a COD and pulled the cranials off. God, was it even possible to fall more in love with this woman?

Mac's smile widened, her eyes took him in as if he were the last man on Earth. He knew she yet didn't realize who she was to him but that didn't matter, she was gorgeous and would be his forever. "Hey, flyboy."

"Hey yourself. I'd say you look beautiful but, that would be the understatement of a lifetime." The way the other women began to giggle, he didn't have to be a rocket scientist to realize he'd been the topic of conversation.

"Sarah does, doesn't she?" Tina stepped out from behind the counter and extended a hand to him. "My name is Tina, I own this salon and the bar you frequent from time to time. Glad to see you brought some company this time and such a pretty one at that. Most of us were concerned you were a recluse."

Harm took her hand but his eyes did not leave Mac. "I apologize for not introducing myself sooner. I was going through a bad patch."

"It's okay. We all have our moments." She winked at him and the turned to Mac. "Guess that's your cue. Don't forget about dinner next week, just give me a call."

Mac nodded, "I will thank you."

"Tina didn't take the money you gave her. She claimed donating my hair was payment enough. I slipped the money into a slot at the register anyway." Mac shrugged, "I know it wasn't mine but..."

"It's fine, Mac. Any place back home would have charged twice as much. I was happy to pay for it."

"I'll pay you back sometime."

The hell she would, Harm though but didn't vocalize that to her. "So, what were you ladies gabbing about? The second I stepped foot inside, all chatter stopped."

The women were trying to gauged their relationship, mostly commenting on the handsome man that no one knew anything about. It seemed like the only conversations Harm would have was with Earl, the owner of the hardware store who had helped procure materials to fix the cabin and the realtor whom he'd bought it from. Such an odd thing to purchase so far away from Washington but she figured it was likely a form of rehabilitation for him just like rebuilding 'Sarah' after the ramp strike that nearly killed him. Everyone had a different way to cope with death and she wouldn't question his. "We were talking about you."

"Me? I'm not that interesting."

"Yes, you are." She stopped walking at the window of an craft store that displayed paints, brushes and other articles for aspiring artists. Mac could see herself drawing again although it had been years since she picked up a pencil - a hobby she gave up after Mic came into her life. "Tina seems to think you are madly in love with me but hide it well. Everyone else thought we were together and I broke your heart. That's why you come here."

Ever since that ride on the 'Titanic' as he called it, Mac stopped trying with him. Either he was that dense or the man just didn't want her like she wanted him. She'd alluded there was something more between them and Harm always danced around the subject even after sharing that heated kiss on the Admiral's porch - their 'goodbye' which served to confuse the hell out of her even more. "The ladies were dejected to find that we have never been romantically involved."

Harm snorted. "Were they now?"

This time she was feeling a bit saucy as if she had the right to toy with their relationship. "Yup. Apparently everyone knows about the handsome Navy Commander who comes in once a month and is practically a recluse. You made quite the impression with the ladies. Apparently Tina tried to hit on you and you absolutely ignored her."

Harm shrugged. He wasn't looking for love or even another woman to warm his bed, he needed this spot of the World in his life although it served to make him hurt more. "I wasn't looking for a woman, Mac. I needed time away so I could recover."

But there was something more and she knew it, instinctively she knew this place although Mac was still unsure where exactly he'd taken her. He kept walking and she stood rooted by the art store staring at the expanse of his back. "I still don't understand. Why here? We're in Maine, right? There are a ton of other places to recover like your parent's home in California or the one in the Bahamas. The beach sounds a lot better than freezing your ass off for recovery. Hell, even your grandmother's farm. So, why here? What is so special about this place?"

It's too soon. Something inside of him warned but as Harm turned to face her he saw that fire in her yes, the one that would light the second she faced him in court. She could be like a hurricane at times, strong and unrelenting and this would be a subject she wouldn't ignore. "I need you to see something."

"No." Mac folded her arms across her chest. "What aren't you telling me? I'm not going to let this go, Harm. There's gaps in my memory, I know that and I think you know what they are. What happened?"

Harm nodded. "Mac, please, come with me. I need you to see this and then I'll explain everything, I swear."

She hesitated despite him offering her the crook of his arm, he always had a way of steering clear out of serious conversation but she was determined to bring it up until he acquiesced . "Please. Trust me."

"Fine." Mac slipped her arm through his and let him take the lead. Her heart was racing, beating so wildly she swore he could hear it. Even her hands had grown cold and clammy. "I hate to admit this to you but, I'm a little scared."

"I am too."