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The next day Meg acted as if nothing had happened. Harm was grateful for that. She was as cheerful and accommodating as ever, meeting his eyes without hesitation.

The day after that she put her kids on a plane back to Texas, amidst many tears and many assurances. Since Georgie insisted on it, it was Harm who drove them to the airport. She gave him a small, fuzzy purple teddy bear when he gave her a short hug. He promised he would look after the bear and couldn't wait until they saw each other again.

His nights were too long again. More than ever he regretted his bad temper the last time Mac had called. The anger subsided again, remorse set in. Where was she, anyway? And how was she? He just prayed she was someplace nice. He prayed her lack of communication meant she was too busy being happy rather than her thinking he did not want to talk to her. But knowing Mac, knowing her as intimately as he did, he also knew the latter was the most likely probability.

The teddy bear from Georgie was now sitting on his desk, right next to the old, worn photograph of smiling Mac holding sunflowers. He watched both objects for a long time. It felt like some strange crossroads of destiny he was standing on and for the first time in years, he was unsure which road to take. There was Mac. The woman he had pined for for over eight years. The woman who kept him enticed, who challenged him, kept him on his toes. The woman who haunted his dreams and fantasies. But the road leading to her scared him now. It was wrought in too much pain, his and hers, with broken relationships, maddening silence on all the important issues, and more than once even furious animosity. And on the other hand, there was the fuzzy purple bear. There were no painful or embarrassing memories on the road it was pointing too. In fact, it held the promise of so many things. A steady relationship with a levelled, confident person. A relationship built on happy, content friendship. And of course, there were the children. The ones Meg already had. The ones she might have with him.

Harm's thoughts fled yet again to that evening when Mac told him about her condition. He managed to be strong for her then, comforting her, even offering alternatives and trying to be optimistic. But after they said their goodbyes for the night and he finally returned to his silent loft, there was no longer anyone to judge him for the tears and the sobs and he surrendered to both. For far too long he had been dreaming of the day they would look into each other's eyes and see it, that thing screaming "I am ready, I am ready now". He had been dreaming of her trembling with pleasure in his arms. Of her breathing happily into his neck the news of "We did it. We are going to have a baby. Don't tell anyone yet." He had been dreaming of pressing his palm to her stomach, feeling the little one moving. He had been dreaming of children with golden-brown eyes and sweet curled-up mouths. He told her the truth at the Admiral's retirement party. The most important thing to him was having children with her, no matter the way it happened. But that did not mean he did not grieve his dreams deeply. Not to mention the fact that her illness made Mac even more distant and reclusive.

"I still can't believe Georgie just gave Mr Pumpy up and that too for you," Meg said and Harm startled a little.

"Yeah, well, I suppose my charm was simply too irresistible," he tried to joke but it felt awkward now. He had kissed this woman. She told him she loved him. Hell, even working that short time with Kate Pike after spending a weekend never leaving their motel room, never felt this kind of awkward. But if Meg noticed his nervousness she never let it show.

"I fully expect you to turn that charm on tonight," she said lightly. Of course. Tonight. The Surface Warfare ball she had monopolized him for over a month ago. Just before the whole nightmare with Mac started. No. After it had already started and he was just ignorant of it.

He wanted to say no now. His eyes moved from the bear to Mac in the picture. His heart constricted painfully. Suddenly there was nothing else but that picture, but Mac. Her laughter when she teased him. Her compassion when he was breaking down. The steadfast loyalty that drove her to follow him halfway around the world. The soft skin of her back as he kissed her on the Admiral's porch. No, there was really not a choice, not really a crossroad. There was just one path, the one to Mac, no matter how difficult. She was the one he wanted to reach. It wouldn't be fair to Meg either, to play on her hopes and expect her to be satisfied with having him but not his heart, not his soul. Sara Mackenzie has taken both those things a long time ago. She never gave them back.

"I'll pick you up at 18:00?" he still suggested. He had promised to go after all.

"Perfect," said Meg and turned to leave, but his voice stopped her.

"Meg? I really care about you. I want to be your friend."

She turned back, her expressions serious now.

"We are friends, Harm," she said then. "But I want more than that. And I hope you want that too."

"I... want a lot of things," he replied, his eyes darting back to the photograph. How to turn the woman in love down without hurting her? Without ruining everything that was good between them? Was that even possible?

Meg had caught his sideways glance and her eyes were suddenly cold, her mouth tight.

"Is the thing you want the most Diane to come back to life?"

His head jerked up.

"What? Where did that come from?"

"You still have her photo, Harm. I have seen it the other day. You have her photo on your desk and stare at it every day."

Meg slowly sat down into one of the chairs opposite his desk. When she spoke again, it was more softly, but still with determination: "Harm, it has been nine years. I am not saying you should forget about her, or that you shouldn't grieve. But you need to let somebody else in. Somebody to bring you new life. Harm, I want to be that somebody. Won't you let me in? Will you forever be fixated on a woman who is gone and has been for years?"

"I am sorry, sir, ma'am," Jennifer Coates interrupted whatever Harm was going to say. "The General asks for the deposition of the Huxley case. The one he should have had an hour ago."

"Thank you, Jennifer, he will get it," Harm said with more calm than he felt. Meg's eyes were cast down as she too gave her assurance to the Petty Officer. As soon as Jennifer disappeared across the bullpen she too stood up and headed out of the door.

"We are still on tonight, right?" she asked before leaving, managing to give Harm a little smile.

He didn't want to. He did not feel like going out and dancing.

"Of course." He faked a smile of his own.


She looked stunning when she opened the door. She wore a long navy-blue gown with tiny straps encrusted with little zirconium diamonds. The soft fabric of the dress suited her perfectly, accentuating her height, her elegant neck and graceful arms. Later, in the ballroom, she almost floated in his arms to the rhythm of waltz and tango. He could feel the eyes of envious men and women follow them at all times. They chatted and introduced each other to acquaintances, they dance some more.

Yet again he found himself having a really good time with Meg beside him. Yet again it made him feel guilty. Yet again his guilt was on the edge of becoming anger. All that was needed was a little push.

At about 3 AM they were ready to go home. She was sitting in his car, humming the melody of one of the waltzes, her cheeks glowing. Any awkwardness of the afternoon had gone. Suddenly Harm's cell phone, lying on the dashboard, started to ring and the word "Mac" appeared on the display. Meg almost jumped out of her skin when Harm without any warning pressed the breaks and swirled the car to the side of the road, stopping it. The sudden change of motion made her body jerk forward and she felt the sting of the safety belt biting into the uncovered skin of her shoulder and collar bone.

"Harm! What the..."

He wasn't listening to her. Before the car even stopped he grabbed the phone and accepted the call.

"Mac? Mac!? What? Yes, but... Who are you again?" he was shouting as if being loud meant the other person would hear him better. When she overcame the initial shock Meg realized she could hear the caller, who too was speaking rather loudly.

"The name's John Crawdon," the deep voice says. "I am the owner of Starlight Motel."

"Where did you get the phone?" Harm asks sharply. "Where is the woman it belongs to?"

"As I was saying, and you really need to stop interrupting, man, the woman is in my motel and quite frankly in rough shape. I thought the number one on her automatic dialling might wanna help her. You wanna help her, man?"

"Yes! What exactly do you mean rough shape? Why didn't she call me herself?! Shouldn't you call an ambulance?"

"It's kinda hard to explain. Nah.. an ambulance is unnecessary. Just come get her."

"Ok, ok... give me the address, I'll be there as fast as I can."

He finally hung up, turning the car engine on immediately.

"I am sorry, Meg, but this cannot wait. I'll take you home later, OK?" he said but did not even look at her, already speeding forward. What else could she do than to nod and wonder. She asked him a few questions. Who was Mac? Why was it so important to get her? And from where again, exactly? Soon she realized talking was useless. Harm didn't hear her, his eyes fixed on the road and the darkness outside.