Here it is! The Christmas epilogue! Thank you to everybody who has read this story and left some feedback! Love ya and Happy 2022 to you!


The house was ablaze with light and voices that all rose when they entered the room. the Roberts family, A.J. and Coates, a bunch of other people from JAG, the Cresswells. Sturgis turner was missing. Harm' smile froze for a second when among the throng of people he recognized Meg. Of course. Bud didn't know. For Bud Meg was still the adorable colleague who had once recommended him to the Admiral and thus, effectively, made his career. He had no idea about the bitter part Meg had played in the agony of the last several months. Her two ginger children were playing with little A.J. and several other kids of the JAG personnel, Georgie obviously ruling them all. He felt a gentle tug on his hand and turned his eyes to Mac. She only smiled and shook her head slightly. Let it go, was the message. Let it go. At least for now.

She was right, of course. Nothing would be achieved by ruining the festive spirit of Christmas currently inhabiting every corner of the house. Harriet had apparently gone all out this year. Masses and masses of greenery with constellations of poinsettias and gilded leaves covered every available surface, making space only for countless plates of sweets, cold meats, pastries and candied fruits. There were stocking hung over the mantelpiece and the Christmas tree was drowning in all the ornaments. The room smelled of cinnamon and gingerbread and the silently falling snow behind the windows gave the whole scene an almost Dickensian feel.

He had half expected Mac to leave him and go play with her godsons, as she usually did. Whenever they set foot into the house before, they were both usually assaulted by the children and Mac especially loved to romp about. He was thus surprised when she merely hugged the boys tight and kissed their marmalade covered chubby cheeks and then returned to him, leaning into his solid frame, her head on his shoulder. He could feel her shaking slightly and guessed she was exhausted.

"Let's go sit somewhere," he nudged her and hand in hand they found a quiet corner. Laughingly she pushed him into a large armchair and in an answer to the question of where in the world was she going to sit she unashamedly climbed onto his lap. His arms were around her in an instant. They barely left that armchair for the next hour. Friends came about and talked with them, Bud and Harriet constantly making sure they were not without something to eat or drink and later little Jimmy came crying, as the bigger kids rejected him from the latest game. Mac scooped the boy into her arms, cooing to him until he promptly fell asleep.

It was becoming too much, Harm could tell. He could almost read her mind and he knew her too damn well. When Harriet, large with the two babies inside her, took Jimmy away and into bed, he could almost hear Mac's heart breaking in her chest. Now that she was safe again, her thoughts had turned into yet another painful direction.

"We are not giving up, Princess," he whispered into her ear. She looked at him questioningly.

"What do you mean?"

"I am not giving up and you are not giving up either," he emphasized.

"Giving up on what?"

Before he could say anything more, A.J. raised his voice: "Alright, people! Time to put your coats on! It is freezing outside and the roads are slippery. Anyone going with us to the Midnight sermon should slowly set out, we don't want any accidents tonight!"


They talked very little after that. They got into a car, out of it and into the church, where the pews were unreasonably cold to sit on. Afterwards, Harm meant to head straight to A.J.'s house and to put Mac into bed as soon as possible, but she insisted on them visiting the Wall. He was touched, but it was also the very first time when he did not linger by that venerable place. He let out a sigh of relief when he finally pulled over next to the house and hurried to the other side of the car to open the door for Mac. As she got out, she frowned.

"Do you think A.J. got caught up somewhere?" she asked and he followed her gaze. Immediately he noticed the same thing she had: the house was dark. Considering Chegwidden had not mentioned any more plans for the evening and left the church even before they did, they had expected to meet him at home. But the said home was obviously empty.

"I hope he is catching up with some old friends and not digging his car out of some ditch," he answered. But when he found the spare keys in his pocket and tried to unlock the door, there was a paper note hanging from the knob. Snatching it up and trying to decipher it under the poor street lamp lights, he finally shook his head in disbelief. "Well, I'll be damned!"

"What?" Mac asked.

"A.J. gave us the house."

"What?" Mac repeated one more time because she clearly heard wrong.

"He says he does not plan to spend the rest of his life in D.C. He wants to permanently relocate to Italy to be near Francesca. He also says he cannot be bothered with the process of selling the house and since were are, and here I quote, two homeless dummies, he wants us to have it."

Mac said nothing for a while, then repeated: "What?"

By this point Harm was fighting fits of laughter. Her expression of genuine confusion coupled with a huge boulder just now lifted off of his shoulders was having a heady effect. Still, he managed to continue: "Apparently he has quietly moved away most of his personal things that were remaining, but he does not care for the furniture. Only asks to crash with us next time he visits. And he is not coming home tonight either."

"Harm, this is absurd."

"Read it for yourself then," he said, handing her the note.

She read it. Four times.

"We... we cannot... we have to pay him..." she stammered out finally.

Harm merely shrugged his shoulders. "Did you miss the part about kicking our asses if we even suggest that?"

"We cannot just take his house!"

"Sure we can," Harm said and finally unlocked the door. "For now. Of course, we will have to discuss this with him, but to be honest, Mac, after all the shit we went through in the last few years and particularly the last few months... I am not ready to argue with my good fortune right now. You coming?"

Inside there was more to wonder about. When Harm switched on the lights, the living room was flooded with a warm, yellow glow that mirrored and glittered over a tall Christmas tree that had not been there that morning. Boxes draped in the decorative paper were piled underneath it.

"Oh my," was all Mac could say before she burst into tears.

"Hey!" Harm grabbed her by the lapels of her coat and drew her near, her face right in front of his. "No - more - tears - tonight," he said, punctuating every word with a kiss to her cheeks and nose. "Suck - it - up - Marine!"

She took several calming, deep breaths before she could pull it together. Then she raised her pink-rimmed, but shining eyes to his face - and immediately noticed what had previously escaped her attention.

"You did this on purpose."

"Yes."

They were standing right under a huge bundle of mistletoe. Dark green leaves dotted with pearl-like white and tied up with bright red ribbon seemed innocent enough, but the moment Harm's lips closed over hers Mac knew innocence was far from what she wanted that night. As the kisses grew more heated, her hands unashamedly slipped under his coat and shirt, making him catch his breath. Soon she found herself freed from her own outer clothing and the temperature in the room grew.

"I thought you were too tired," Harm murmured against her skin.

"No. I want you. I want you," she said breathlessly and it was the last thing she was consciously aware of doing.

He made love to her under that mistletoe, with lights on and nothing but a carpet and a bunch of throw pillows under them. He leaned over her and each of his thrusts was gentle and firm, quickening his blood and her excitement. She straddled him and rocked against him then, kissing him deeply at the same time. They touched and breathed and licked and moved until they were both sated and covered with a sheen of sweat.

In their previous encounters with other partners, they were both used to detach right after the act. They found themselves completely unwilling to do that with each other. The moments after they both climaxed were as much a part of their lovemaking as everything that preceded it. He held her tight and she wound herself around him and not until they both started to shiver a bit did they let go. They did not open any presents. Just turned off the light and stumbled into bed.

"You wanted to say something," she reminded him before falling asleep.

"I love you?" he suggested, a bit confused and pretty sure that response would not land him in any trouble.

"Thank you. But I mean before. Before we left Bud's place and went to church. You were saying something about not giving up. Giving up what?"

He was wide awake now. That. Should he say it now? When he wanted to offer it several hours ago, it was meant to be an encouragement, a comfort. But now, when they were both blissfully happy for the moment, would it only ruing the night and bring more pain.

"Harm?"

"I just wanted to let you know we are not quitters and we are not giving up on the possibility of our own baby," he let out in a single long breath. "I saw you there today, in that house full of children, and I just knew you were thinking about our own child. And how difficult it seems right now. But," he pressed her to him even tighter, "there is a chance and we are going to take it, Sarah. I just wanted you to know I am with you every step of the way."

She seemed to contemplate that for a while. He was waiting for a reply for such a long time he began to think she had fallen asleep.

"What if that way leads nowhere, Harm?"

"Then, Princess, we will take another. As long as we walk together, I don't care where we end up. I promise."

She merely kissed his shoulder and closed her eyes.

This time she was almost asleep when he spoke again, somewhat offended: "Did you just really say 'Thank you' when I told you I loved you?"

He could not see her smile, nor did he know she would more than makeup for that in the morning. And every morning that came after that.