A/N: Thanks to a reviewer for a little bit of Naval Academy history. I was intrigued, so I did a little more research. I hope I got all the details correct.

Harm finishes chopping the vegetables for the salad, and grabs two bottles of water and the arugula out of the fridge. He sets a bottle in front of Mac and asks, "did the Admiral happen to mention what type of dance lessons we should be taking?"

Mac takes the top off of the proffered water and sneaks a swig before saying, "I'm assuming he wants us to take ballroom dancing since those are typically the types of dances we would be doing at official functions."

Harm scoffs, "I've already taken ballroom dancing lessons."

Mac looks at him, intrigued, "Really? I thought you just learned from watching what was required. I can't see you voluntarily agreeing to actually go to lessons."

Harm smiles, thoroughly enjoying the fact that he can still surprise her, "I took them when I was at the Academy in preparation for the ring dance. A dance is held in our junior year when we are 2nd Class Midshipmen. It's an annual formal event, that began back in 1925, where we receive our Academy rings. All midshipmen bless the rings by dipping them into the "waters of the seven seas," a bowl of water collected from the seven seas. Ships from the fleet bring back water from those seas to replenish the supply."

Mac looks away as she quietly asks, "Did you take Diane?"

Harm grasps her hands in his, and stays quiet until she looks at him, "I did."

Mac sighs, "I'm sorry Harm, I didn't mean to dredge up painful memories."

Harm gives her hands a quick squeeze, "You didn't. The ring dance was like a rite of passage for me. But, even with all the pomp and circumstance, the dance was fun. Sturgis brought a girl that his father had recommended, and she refused to wear his ring around her neck. Apparently, she wasn't all that into him. Keeter kept stepping on his date's feet, and she decided to pay him back by stomping on his foot with her six-inch heels. He was still complaining about his foot hurting three days later. Once we had dipped the rings in the water, we were allowed to wear them all the time, supposedly symbolizing our marriage to the Navy."

Mac rolls her eyes, and then teases, "Oh, so you have been married before. And here I thought you were one of the most eligible bachelors out there this whole time."

Harm laughs, "Oh, but of course. Didn't you know that if the Navy wanted you to have a wife, they would have issued you one?"

Mac continues their banter, she really missed this. "Does that mean you can't have a wife until you are out of the Navy?"

Harm thinks about this for a moment before responding, "Nah. If I can ever convince a woman to put up with me for the rest of her life, she will just have to live with me having the Navy as a mistress."

Mac bursts out laughing, "You mean she would have to put up with you and a mistress? That's a pretty tall order there, Sailor."

Harm gives her a full flyboy grin, "Well, she does get a tall drink of water to go with it! That has to count for something."

Mac smiles, "Yes, I suppose that is true." She solemnly adds, "Do you think you will ever find someone?"

He looks deep into her eyes and cryptically answers, "I think when the time is right, everything will work out as it should."

Mac, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the depth of their conversation, hops off the bar stool, and goes in search of plates to set the table. She decides to shift the conversation back to the dancing lessons, "By the way, the Admiral gave me the name of a studio. In the small amount of time I had to research the place before heading over here, it looks like they offer a wide range of classes."

Harm, thankful for the shift in conversation also, walks the salad over and sets it on the table. He queries, "So what days and times would work best for you?"

Mac walks over and sets the plates and silverware on the table, "I'm pretty flexible most nights." As she walks back to grab the glasses she thinks, 'Did I really just say that?'

With her back turned away from him, she misses the raised eyebrow that Harm gives at her double meaning. He silently wonders just how flexible she really is! Harm agrees, "I'm free most nights too, unless Sturgis feels the need to have his butt whooped at the gym, so give a call to the studio and set something up within the next week."

Mac tosses over her shoulder, "Ok, I will do that and let you know."

Harm smiles, "I'll be there with bells on."

Harm heads over to the kitchen to grab the shrimp and rice, and gets there just as Mac is turning back from the cupboard with the glasses in her hand. They bump into each other, electricity sizzling between them, as Harm wraps his arm around her waist to steady her. He quietly says, "Steady there, Marine," as he resists the temptation to bend down and brush his lips against hers.

Mac is flushed from head to toe at the simple contact. She can't wait for these lessons to start so that his arms will be wrapped around her all the time. She just wishes it was being done of his own free will and not because they were ordered to do so. She looks up at him through her long eyelashes and whispers, "Let's eat" before stepping out of his embrace.

Over dinner, they discuss how Harm's trial is going and how Mac is putting together info for the Walker defense.

Harm chuckles, "You have my deepest sympathies, but I have no doubt that you will be victorious over Lt. Witch."

Mac sighs, "I hope so, but the deposition today didn't make me feel too hot about my chances."

Harm gives her a quick wink, "Tomorrow will be a brighter day, I can sense it already."

Mac smiles at Harm's optimism. Today was a terrible day all the way around, but the night has been fantastic.

After dinner, Harm and Mac are in the kitchen cleaning up. He is washing the dishes, and she is drying them, and they are working in complete harmony together. He decides to make a suggestion. "Hey Mac, should I put some music on when we are done cleaning up? That way we can assess how out of practice we are at dancing together before we embarrass ourselves in front of others."

Mac giggles, "Sure Flyboy, just don't step on my feet with your size 13 shoe!"

Harm counters, "Well, as long as you let me lead, we will be fine."

Mac looks at him like he has grown another head, "the last time I let you lead, we almost got killed. Besides, Marines are supposed to lead the way, the Navy just provides the ride to get us there." She chuckles to herself, 'If only I could get him to lead with the head between his legs instead of the one on his shoulders.'

Harm raises his eyebrow thinking, 'I'll give this Marine a ride alright, anywhere she wants to go.' As he walks over to the stereo, he tells her, "Well let's see how rusty the Marine is before she goes storming any beaches."