All Too Well

Summary: Mac and Harm are together in San Diego following the coin toss. But staying together ends up being even harder than getting together.

Part Six – Mac

June 2005

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?"

Harm zips his bag and shakes his head. "No, Mattie and I will be fine." He looks toward me and grins. "You look cute."

I roll my eyes and shake my head. "I'm a mess."

His grin widens, and he runs a finger over the edge of the bandana that's currently keeping my hair off of my face. "Really cute, actually. This look works for you."

I can't help but laugh. "So, I should just toss out all everything in my lingerie drawer and dress like this when I want to turn you on?"

He shrugs and bends to kiss me. His hands move under my tank top, and his fingers graze the underside of my breasts. "You know good and well that I think lingerie is overrated." He kisses me again, deeper this time. I'm breathless when he pulls back. "I'd rather just have you naked."

I let my hand graze his erection and I'm pleased at his shudder. "I'll keep that in mind for when you're back." I stretch forward again to kiss him one last time, and then give him a gentle shove when we pull apart. "Go. Or you'll miss your flight." He groans and I smile. "Are you sure you don't want a ride to the airport?"

He shakes his head. "No, I'm fine. Frank's flight leaves a little after mine, so getting a ride with him makes sense." He picks up his bag and I follow him out of our bedroom and downstairs. "I hate leaving you with all of this house stuff."

I look around and shrug. "I'm only starting on the painting. There will be plenty for you to do when you're back home."

Harm secures his bag over his shoulder. "I can't wait for you to put me to work." I raise an eyebrow and he laughs. "And just think – once I'm back with Mattie, I won't have to leave again for quite a while."

"I'm going to hold you too that."

He tilts my face up and kisses me again. "Please do." He smiles and I feel my heart begin to beat faster. "See you in a few days. I love you."

"I love you too."


The house is too quiet once he's gone, and almost immediately I turn on music to keep me company while I work. I take in the cream-colored walls of the living room one last time, and then pry over the can of paint and tip some of the pale blue paint into the tray.

I had prepared for Harm and I to butt heads over home décor, but picking colors has been surprisingly easy. So far, at least. We both liked the way the pale blue paint samples looked with the white wainscoting, and with the gray sofas we selected. I dipped the roller in the tray of paint and began to roll the color on the walls.

The family room was large with high ceilings, and I had to work around the large number of windows, but I was already pleased with the result after just one coat, and couldn't wait for Harm to see it finished. Well, Harm and Mattie, I guess.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about the teenager finally moving in with us. She's a nice girl and we get along well enough, but she's always been a little guarded around me. I don't blame her – I was similar when I was her age. And I think knowing that is why I'm so nervous about her coming to live with us. She's obviously taken with Harm, and she's formed a strong bond with Jen. So, where do I fit in?

I'm startled from my thoughts by a knock on the door, and I set the roller on the edge of the tray and wipe off my hands before turning down the music and answering it. It's Trish, and I must admit I'm surprised to see her.

"Trish, hello." She gives me an obvious once over, and I blush thinking of my shabby clothes. "This is a surprise."

"I thought I'd stop by and see if you'd like to have dinner since the men are away." She smiles and I can tell she's nervous. "But it looks like you're busy."

I shake my head. "No, not really. Just painting the living room. It smells like paint, but would you like to come in?" She nods, and I back into the foyer, and let her move past me. She saw the house right after we closed on it, and I'm embarrassed by how messy it is at the moment. "Sorry for the mess."

She waves me off. "The color is beautiful." She smiles and turns to take everything in. I'd recommend white floor length curtains for the windows in here. It'll look so lovely and airy."

I nod; that was already my plan, and I'm pleased that someone with her level of style would do the same thing. "I've finished the first coat, and it needs time to dry before the second. If you don't mind waiting while I clean myself up, I'd love to have dinner." I can tell she's pleased, and I put the tray and roller in a plastic bag that's supposed to keep the paint from drying out, and then I run upstairs to clean myself up.


"Have you been here yet," she asks as we pull into what looks like an elegant bistro and the valet attendant hurries to open her door.

"No, not yet." I step out of the car and into the pleasant evening. I miss a few things about Georgetown and the East Coast in general, but I don't miss the weather. June in Virginia was miserably hot and humid, and right now its not even 70 degrees in San Diego. I follow Trish into the restaurant, and stand back as she greets the maître'd with a kiss on each cheek, and follow them both to a table with a jaw dropping view.

"This is beautiful," I say, once we've been seated.

She smiles and nods. "This is my favorite restaurant in San Diego." A very handsome, very young waiter approaches with a bottle of sparkling water, and greets Trish by name. Apparently, she knows everyone here. "Steven, this is my future daughter-in-law, Sarah." She sips the glass of water he hands her and gives me a conspiratorial wink. "Our men are both out of town, so we're having a girl's night."

"Well, I'm delighted that you came to us for your night out." He smiles at her, and hands me a glass of water. "Any cocktails tonight?"

Before I can say anything, Trish shakes her head. "No, just keep the Pellegrino coming." He nods, and briefly gives us a run down on the specials, before leaving us alone with the menus.

"Did Harm tell you I don't drink?" The words come out quickly, and the question sounded more intense than I intended.

She nods and runs her finger over the rim of her glass. "Years ago, actually." She smiles, but it's sad and it makes me sit up straighter. "After…" She swallows hard, and it looks like she's blinking back tears. "After Russia; the first trip to Russia, I wanted to send you something to say thank you. One of my thoughts was a wine of the month thing that friends of mine love, but when I brought it up to Harm, he told he that you didn't drink. He didn't go into specifics, but when he said it wasn't because of a pregnancy, I just assumed."

I nod, understanding. My history with Harm has simultaneously made having a relationship with his parents both easier and harder. I mean, I know that I scored points with them by following him to Russia multiple times, and by finding him in the middle of the Atlantic. He's obviously talked about me over the years, so I know they already know plenty about me. But they also know that he resigned his commission to come find me, and I assume they know I ended up dating Clayton Webb for nearly a year.

"My father was an alcoholic," I tell her. She nods and I take a sip of the water. "My mother left when I was 15, and I started drinking too."

"How'd you get sober?"

I think of Eddie, bloody and broken in the car next to me, and I think of telling Harm this story at the beginning of our partnership and I sip my drink again. "I was in a car accident with a friend of mine the night of our high school graduation. He was driving, but we had both been drinking. I don't remember much of it, thankfully. I spent a week in the hospital, and when my uncle came to get me, he helped me dry out."

Her face is sympathetic, but she doesn't say anything, and her silence makes me uncomfortable. I may not be the trashy girl from the wrong side of the tracks anymore, but I can't help but wonder if she fully approves of me. Harm loves me, and I love him. Is that enough for her, or does she wish that he was marrying someone from better stock? Someone without a broken, disgraceful family, and without a scandalous past. I don't know, and I'm afraid to ask. I'm also afraid that I'll always feel uneasy around her, because no matter how nice my clothes and my car and my house are, or how educated I am, I'm still the teenage alcoholic with an uncle who stole the Declaration of Independence, a husband I killed in self-defense, and a crappy reproductive system. How could I ever be good enough for her son?


It's not that late when Trish drops me off at the house, but I feel completely drained when I step inside. I run a hand over a wall and let out a sigh. The paint is dry, but I don't have it in me to do another coat right now. I'm turning off the lights and I'm about to head upstairs when the phone rings. I reach for the phone and smile when I see Harm's name on the caller ID. "Hey handsome."

"Hey there." His voice is deep and warm, and I feel my legs turning to jelly. "How has your night been?"

"Good," I say. I nestle the phone between my ear and shoulder, and place a hand on the banister to support myself. "I just got back from dinner with your mom, and I'm so full and tired, I'm contemplating just sleeping on the living room floor."

"Don't do that," he says. "Not when our new bed is just a few steps away."

I eye the remaining stairs and groan. "Too far," I complain. He laughs, and I continue trudging upstairs. His voice is doing things to me, and I desperately want to be in bed for this conversation. I finally make it to the bedroom, and sigh. "Okay. I made it."

He laughs softly. "Glad to hear it. So, are you good to talk, or are you going to go for one of your marathon baths tonight?"

The thought of a bath is appealing, and I kick off my shoes and head to the bathroom. "I think I'll do both."

"Oh yeah?" His voice is even deeper, and I feel like I can't get my clothes off fast enough. I turn the water on, and wait until there are a few inches in the tub before climbing in. "Are you naked yet?" He asks.

"I am." I lean back against the porcelain and close my eyes.

"Set the scene for me," he says. "What bath oil are you using? Tell me what I would smell if I was there with you." His voice is low and sexy, and even though we just started, my hand is already moving between my thighs.


We've gotten good at phone sex over the past two months. I never imagined the man I once called a prude would be any good at dirty talk, but he is. God, he is. That mouth of his is skilled in so many ways and I love every single one of them.

We hang up shortly after my third orgasm. It's much later there, and even if he weren't already tired, I know he's nearly comatose after he finishes. He stays awake long enough to tell me he loves me and he'll call tomorrow, and then he offers me a slurred goodnight and is gone.

The bath water has cooled, and a good bit has sloshed onto the floor, so I toss the phone aside and fill the tub a little bit more. I briefly wish we had a stereo or something in here, because it's too quiet. And when it's too quiet I lose myself in my thoughts, which is usually dangerous. I know it's because things are still so new between us and we're both insatiable after nearly ten years of holding back our wants, but I wish Harm and I actually talked more. The sex is so good – incredibly good. But I love talking to him. I love the sound of his voice, and I find myself missing it.


The weekend passes quickly, and it isn't long before I hear Harm's car pull into our driveway on Sunday night. I stand quickly and run my hands over my thighs, smoothing out any wrinkles in my navy blue shorts. I take one final look around the living room, and admire the work I did over the weekend. I did a second coat of paint yesterday morning, and then spent the evening hanging steaming white curtains, and then hanging the perfectly smooth curtains from sleek gold rods. It looked great, and I was so excited for Harm – and Mattie – to see it.

The door opens, and his smile is wide as he helps her in. I tentatively approach them, and greet Harm with a modest kiss before turning my attention to the young woman standing beside him.

"Welcome to your new home, Mattie." She and I look at each other, and while it's not exactly wariness, it's obvious that neither of us are comfortable with the other, and we'd both prefer to be alone with Harm. I lean forward and give her an awkward hug, and then pull back and walk backward into the house. "How was the flight? Do you need anything?"

She shakes her head and looks around the room. "No, I'm fine. Thank you." She looks at me, and then up at Harm. "I'm pretty tired, and just want to get settled. Which room is mine?"

I try to push aside the rejection I feel. Of course, she's tired. I follow her and Harm to the one bedroom on the ground floor. We've had her things shipped here from Washington, so it's her bed and dresser, and the vintage chair in the corner that had belonged to her mother. The walls are still white, but only because we thought she might like to pick the colors for her room herself. I watch her take in the room, and I want to cry for her when her hand slowly trails over the slightly faded fabric on the chair.

"Mom's chair," she says simply.

"Yeah," Harm responds, before I can say anything. "A lot of your family's things are still in storage, but Mac thought the chair would work well in here."

Mattie looks at me and I fight the urge I have to fidget. "Thanks, Mac."

I let out a breath. "You're welcome." I step back to the door frame. I'm not going to push her. Our relationship can grow at whatever pace she'd like. "I'm sure it's been a long day, so I'm going to go put something together for dinner, and let you get settled." She nods and I can see relief on her face. "I'm glad you're here, Mattie."

She nods. "Me too."

End Part 6