Summary: Harm. & Mac begin their life together, while both deal with the reality of Harm's decision to resign his commission. Spoiler alert: Mac doesn't handle it very well. (Continuation of It Started in Russia, and Everything is Going to Be Okay)

Part Twenty

A few weeks later…

"Want me to come with you?"

Mac looked up from her suitcase and frowned at Harm. "It's a work trip, and we don't work together anymore."

"Yeah, I know." Harm took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "But you're going to San Diego. I could come and spend time with my mom and Frank while you're working, and spend nights with you." She shook her head and he placed a hand on hers. "Come on, Mac. It'll be fun."

"It won't be fun, Harm. I'm going for work, and t isn't supposed to be fun." She pulled her hand away, shook out the shirt she had been folding, and started again. "I'm not going to fall apart if you're not with me for a few days. I'll be fine."

Harm didn't say anything. If he was honest, he wasn't too sure she wouldn't fall apart. She'd been… different ever since their return from Arkansas – with her mother's ashes. She was irritable one minute, and sad the next. Sometimes it felt as if she was pushing him away, and then she was borderline clingy. He knew that her feelings over her mother were complicated, and Maddie and Ben's broken engagement had made her uneasy, and he was trying to be patient and supportive, but it was proving to be a challenge. He wasn't sure what to say or do to help her, and absolutely hated feeling this useless.

"At least give my parents a call while you're there. I know they'd love to see you."

She sighed. She wanted to tell him no; that she didn't need him to pass along his job as her babysitter to his mother. But she wouldn't do that "Of course I will." She did every time she found herself in San Diego. If for no other reason than she never wanted them to feel offended that their almost daughter-in-law was in their area and didn't let them know. They both fell silent while she continued to pack. She met his eyes once she zipped her bag shut and let out a shaky breath. "I should probably get going."

"Sure." He wanted to argue that her flight doesn't leave for three hours, and she hated to head to the airport that early, but he didn't. She obviously didn't want to be here with him right now, and there was nothing for him to do but give her the space that she obviously wanted. He reached for her suitcase and easily lifted it. "I'll take this to the car. Meet you outside?"

"Yeah," Mac said softly. She looked around their bedroom and then back at him. "I need to grab one more thing for the carryon. I'll be right there." He nodded and she watched him leave. Once she heard the front door open and close, she went into the closet and pulled out a small cardboard box, and gently placed the box in her bag. Before zipping the bag shut, she pulled Deanne MacKenzie's death certificate and the disposition permit from her nightstand and tucked those in next to the box. She still hadn't figured out what to do with her mother's ashes, and a part of her felt like she needed to get rid of them for the sake of closure, but she had started to obsess about finding the right spot. Maybe California would provide the inspiration she needed. She let out a shaky breath, zipped up the bag, and went outside to meet Harm.

The moment she stepped out of the airport and into the comfortable September day, she asked herself for the thousandth time why she hadn't tried to get orders to the west coast yet. It was a perfect 77 degrees here, which felt amazing compared to the humid 87 degrees she had left behind.

Her rental car had a sunroof, and she opened that and lowered the windows, and breathed in the warm air on the drive from the airport to base. It was almost 5:00, and she knew there wasn't much she'd be able to do today. The best she could hope for was being able to meet her client, and then she'd get checked in to her quarters, get some dinner, and hopefully some sleep.

The last few weeks had been an emotional roller coaster. Mac had felt nothing when Deanne had told her she was sick, other than just the general sadness that someone's life was ending. She hadn't expected to feel much more than that when Deanne actually died. But she did. Ever since the phone call that she had passed, and the trip to Arkansas to go through her things and collect her remains, she's dealt with an overwhelming number of differing emotions, and it's absolutely exhausting. She missed the days where she only felt guilt for feeling nothing.

Once she's in her quarters, she sits down on the edge of the bed and dials Harm's familiar number. He answers quickly, but the background noise is loud and she pulls the phone away from her ear.

"Hey hon," he says by way of a greeting. "Hold on one second," She waits quietly, and when he returns, she can actually hear him. "Hi," he says again. "How was your flight?"

"Fine. Where are you?"

"Ben called and asked to meet him for a drink. We're over at that new place on 9th Street."

Her jaw clenches at the mention of his friend's name. She would never tell him who he could or couldn't be friends with, but she did have a problem with this particular friendship these days.

She doesn't say anything, and he sighs softly. "He's miserable, Mac."

"And so is Maddie. But the difference is that he's the one who caused all of this."

"I know." And he does know. He knows that his friend is an absolute idiot. But he's still his friend, and he's hurting. "Anyways," he says, trying to change the subject. "What are your plans for the night?"

"Nothing really. I'm going to head to the brig and meet my client. But everything else will have to wait until tomorrow."

"Hopefully you can get some sleep," he said, his voice tender. He knew she hadn't been sleeping well lately. "You should have skipped base quarters and gone to stay with mom and Frank. Our bed at their place is so much more comfortable."

She winced at the mention of 'our bed'. Because it wasn't. Not really. It was his. And if things ended between them, the way they seemed to end with everyone else, it would only be his again. "I don't mind it. I'm a Marine; believe me, I've slept in less comfortable places." She tried to force levity into her voice, but it fell flat and she looked around the boring room. "I should probably hop off here and head to the brig. I just wanted to let you know that I arrived safely."

"Okay," Harm said. "Thanks for calling. I love you, Mac."

Mac swallowed hard, and gripped the phone tighter. "I love you, too."

"Everything okay?" Ben asked, as soon as Harm had rejoined him at their table.

Harm raised an eyebrow and picked up his beer. "Mac's having a hard time right now." He sipped the beer and leaned back in his seat. "Partially because of you."

Ben winced and toyed with a damp napkin. "Well, if it makes her feel any better, I'm having a hard time as well."

"Sorry, man. I don't think any of us are able to muster too much sympathy for you right now." His friend closed his eyes and Harm immediately felt like an asshole. "Have you heard from Maddie?"

He shook his head. "No, not since she asked me to leave. She made sure to be out of the apartment while I packed up my things. I've tried calling a few times, but she won't talk to me."

"Can you blame her?"

Ben groaned. "I didn't want to break up," he said. "I just realized I didn't want to get married."

Harm shook his head. "That's bullshit and you know it. It isn't that you don't want to get married; you're afraid of getting hurt again – like you did with Kristen." Ben didn't say anything, and Harm ran a hand through his hair. "What did you expect Maddie to do? To take a step backward because you're afraid but unwilling to do anything to deal with that fear other than cut and run?"

"I just needed time," Ben said. "I needed some time to work through that fear; to feel more confident that everything between us would work out."

"And how did that work out?"

Ben glowered at Harm and sipped his drink. "Look, if you're just here to give me a hard time, you can go."

Harm shook his head and downed the rest of his beer. "I'm not here to give you a hard time. But you can't expect anyone to feel sorry for you. Not when a devastated Maddie has been at our place nearly every night since you called off the wedding. And Mac has been-" Harm trailed off, not wanting to bring his own issues into this.

Ben's eyes widened. "Is that what this is about? Maddie and I have caused Mac to freak out – again, I might add – so, that's why you're upset with me?"

Harm's jaw clenched. "Yes, Mac is anxious. But I'm not upset with you because of her. I'm upset because you're my friend and I know you're going to kick your own ass for this one day. How do you see this playing out in the future? Coming over to our place for a birthday party or cookout in a few years, and seeing Maddie there with another man? Maybe a baby in her arms? And where will you be? Watching alone from across the room? Or instead of being alone, will you have another 20-something fling hanging on to your arm? Is that what you want for the rest of your life?"

"Screw you," Ben said, his voice low and dangerous.

Harm stood and reached into his wallet and pulled out some money to cover the beer and a tip. "I'm going to go, before one of us says something we can't take back. But first I'm going to say this: I know the ex hurt you. I know that. But Maddie isn't her. Don't confine yourself to a half-life – a life of loneliness – because you're afraid."

Mac slid behind the seat of her rental car and closed her eyes. Her client was 100% guilty. She had been on the fence before meeting with him, but now she knew for sure. And she absolutely hated having guilty clients. She didn't enjoy the challenge of it the way Harm always had, and it was torture for her to work hard for someone she knew should be dishonorably discharged and imprisoned.

Her phone rang, and she reached for it without opening her eyes. "Hello?"

"Darling, it's Trish."

Her eyes shot open and she wanted to throttle her fiancé. Of course, he had reached out to his mother. Times like this she kind of hated how well he knew her. He knew she tended to isolate herself when she was feeling down, and he obviously didn't want to take the chance that she wouldn't reach out to the Burnett's while in San Diego.

"Hi Trish; how are you?"

"I'm wonderful, especially once I learned you were here. How long are you in town for?"

"I'm not sure," she said honestly. "I arrived today for a case. Probably a few days, depending on how things go in court." She scrunched up her face and squeezed her eyes shut for just a moment and then relaxed. "I was going to call you when I had a handle on things to see if you and Frank wanted to meet for dinner one night."

"Frank is in Cairo," Trish said, "but of course I would. In fact, I think you should check out of base quarters and come stay with me. I'd love the company, and I hate to boast, but I think our house blows those sad little rooms out of the water. Unless of course they've drastically improved over the years."

Mac couldn't help but smile. "I doubt they have. I actually think the furniture in my room may be older than Harm."

Trish laughed. "Good, it's settled then. Come stay with me while you're here."

Her smile faded. "Trish," she started. But the other woman cut her off.

"Sweetheart, I know you're having a hard time since your mother died. And Harm told me about your friends and their break-up, and how you've been there for her at a time when I imagine you don't have that much to give. Let me be there for you. At least let me provide a comfortable place to stay, complete with a very fancy bathtub and an assortment of luxury bath salts."

Mac sighed and nodded. It was harder to say no to Trish than it was to Harm. Maybe because she was so desperate for his family to like her, and was afraid to tell them no. "Okay. If you're sure it's not an imposition. I'd love to come stay."

"Wonderful!" Trish exclaimed.

"I'll get checked out of my room on base and I'll be there shortly."

They exchanged goodbyes and hung up, and Mac made the short drive across base to her room. She hadn't unpacked yet, so gathering her things only took a few minutes. After a short conversation with the young woman working the front desk, she was back in the rental car and driving up I-5 to La Jolla.

JJJ

Trish was out of the front door almost as soon as the car had stopped. She hurried down the front steps and pulled Mac close the moment she was out of the car. Mac resisted for a moment, and then let herself melt into the hug.

After a few minutes, Trish pulled back and gently examined her. She looked exhausted. And… delicate, which wasn't a word she would have ever thought she'd use to describe her. She looked like she had lost weight since the last time they had seen one another, and she looked paler than usually. "Come on. Let's go inside." She and Mac each grabbed a bag, and she led the way inside and upstairs to Harm's boyhood room. Trish opened the door and walked inside first. She had made up the room down as soon as she had hung up with her soon. The bed had been freshened with clean linens, a vase of flowers sat on the nightstand, and the curtains and the patio door had been opened to let in sunlight and a gentle, fragrant breeze. She watched Mac, and smiled as some of the tension left her shoulders. She sat the small suitcase by the dresser and gave Mac's arm a gentle squeeze. "Make yourself at home. I'll be in the kitchen."

"Thanks, Trish."

She smiled and made her way back to the door. "Anytime, darling."

Once she was gone, Mac sat down on the edge of the bed, and fell backward. God, this bed was comfortable. As much as she wanted to scream at Harm for calling his mother, she was so glad she was here.

She sat up a few minutes later and changed into white denim shorts and a long sleeved pale blue button-down shirt, and made her way downstairs to the kitchen. Trish was standing by the island, arranging cheeses and fruit on a wood board and looked up with a smile.

"Perfect timing. You can help me carry this to the patio." Mac nodded and Trish gestured at a pitcher. "Grab that pitcher of tea, and the plates and napkins."

She did as she was told and followed her onto the massive deck with the jaw dropping view of the Pacific. She set her items down and watched the waves crashing onto the sand for a moment, and felt a little more of the tension leave her body. What was that old saying about salt water being the cure for anything? Maybe there was some truth to it after all. Trish sat the board in the center of the table, and then took a seat in one of the padded chairs. There were already glasses with ice and silverware on the table, and Mac settled in as well. They were silent while they filled their small plates with food, and poured tea into the glasses, but once they ran out of things to do, Trish looked at her and leaned back.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Mac looked out to the ocean again, and then at Trish. "Talk about what?"

Trish offered her a sympathetic smile. "Sweetheart, the sadness and worry are just seeping out of you." Mac started to open her mouth, but she raised her hand. "Harm hasn't said anything, so don't be angry at him. I could see that you weren't okay the moment you stepped out of the car." She reached over and placed her hand on Mac's. "I know I'm not your mother, but I love you and care for you as if I were, and I want to help."

Mac felt her throat begin to tighten and closed her eyes to try to fight back the tears, but it was no use. The tears began to fall, and she lowered her head and began to cry.

End Part 20