A/N: Sadly, I own no rights to Peter Pan or Aladdin either. However, if someone in my family had bought stock in Disney long before I was born, I would be sitting on a nice lump of coal, err gold, right now.

Chapter 14: BRB, I Need to See A Man About A Lamp

Grams smiles cheekily, "Now, Harmon. Why do you think I would interfere?"

It's Harm's turn to roll his eyes, "Because Grams, I highly doubt that you and Keeter are talking about the weather up there. I wouldn't put it past the two of you to be coming up with some elaborate scheme to meddle in my personal life. So, please give me and Mac a chance to try and set things right ourselves first."

Grams chuckles, "Ok, mister. I'll give you one more chance to get things right before I take matters into my own hands. I know at this point that it is fruitless to be wishing for a great grandchild, but I would still like to see you happy and settled before I'm not around anymore to look after you. And history has already shown that you aren't going to be that way without Mac."

Harm sighs audibly at the comment about great-grandchildren. If they hadn't wasted so much time, they would probably have a houseful of rugrats marching around. Now, he knows the odds are very slim of them ever having a biological child of their own. He doesn't know if she took any precautions to be able to fulfill their deal, but he had. He didn't want to risk not being able to have a biological child. Not necessarily an heir, but the one he had promised her with her looks and his brains, or his looks and her brains. He just couldn't bring himself to be a donor for anyone else along the way. He will cross that bridge, or double-edged sword, when they come to it. He knows they are both much older than they were when they made that deal. He doesn't even know at this stage if she would even want to raise a child with him, biological or other. For now, he just needs to focus on keeping Mac in his life.

He tells his Grandmother, "I'll work on it, but if you feel inclined to play matchmaker, work on "Mr. Commitmentphobe" that is currently at your residence. You don't want to know how many phone numbers he left this hospital with today."

Grams chuckles, fully aware of how much of a flirt Keeter can be. She replies, "I can only imagine. He does still think he is Peter Pan after all, but I am working on him too, don't you worry. With that in mind, I will let you talk to the roguish beast. And please remind him that while he is in "my" company, he needs to be dressed at ALL times, and a towel doesn't count as clothing. I love you dear. You take care of yourself, and that woman who needs to be my grand-daughter-in-law."

Harm smiles, "I'll do my best. Love you too Grams. Now would you please put PITA on the phone?"

Grams asks, "Who is PITA? You must mean Peter. Hold on I'll get Jackson for you."

Harm laughs, "Jackson is PITA, Grams. PITA stands for Pain in the Ass, although right about now PIMA would be more appropriate."

Harm can hear his grandmother's roaring laughter as she passes Jack the phone, telling him, "Oh you are in trouble now my boy!"

Jack bellows, "Hello Harm, how is your beautiful Marine fairing?"

Harm shakes his head, "Mac is doing just fine, thank you. However, Jack, I'm going to kill you when I see you!"

Jack cackles, "Oh really what did I do?"

Harm grumbles, "You drove up north to get reinforcements. Since you know I will listen to my grandmother most of the time. Either that or you lost your marbles. Perhaps you need to fly back to Never Never Land and find them. You couldn't even give me and Mac a couple of days to try and work on "us" by ourselves."

Jack rationalizes, "Hey now! I did leave the two of you to yourselves. I just came up here to be prepared with a back up plan in case either of you torpedo it again this time. Lord knows you didn't have any guts to act on it in the desert."

Harm raises his voice slightly, "Well, if someone hadn't landed their plane in the middle of the desert, I wouldn't have had to come out there and bail him out in the first place!"

Jack chuckles, "Well, I figured you needed to get a little flying time in. You'd had your nose buried in too many legal books lately!"

Harm smiles, as much as he loves the law, he does miss having a multi-million-dollar aircraft sitting under him. Sadly, the Navy doesn't want its JAG doing that as a side job anymore. Harm states, "Speaking of the desert, What in the world is this about you owing Mac a lamp?"

Jack emits a sound somewhere between a loud groan and a low chuckle, "She had to mention that, didn't she? It was from a bet during those two days we were with the Bedouins, and I lost. I actually owed her a magic lamp, complete with a genie to be exact. She said something about needing it to make a wish come true. But alas, even after all these years of searching, I still haven't found one."

Harm inwardly sighs, wondering what Mac would have been wishing for back then, and wondering if it had anything to do with him. He again curses himself for being so silent when it came to telling her how he really felt about her. He will talk with her about her wishes later. Right now, curiosity is taking over, and he wants to know what they were betting about. Hopefully, it wasn't over whether or not Harm would make a move. He inquires, "Terms?"

Jack goes silent on the other end of the phone.

Harm starts tapping a foot on the floor, knowing Jack can't see it, but he can probably hear Harm's impatience for the rest of the story. He again asks, "Jack…what were you betting about?"

Jack sheepishly admits, "I made the mistake of challenging her to arm wrestle, and she won. Who knew a woman could have that kind of strength. I mean, I knew that she was a Marine, but damn, that is one tough woman! The nomads were laughing their butts off! I had to go sulk in the sandstorm."

Harm chuckles, "Just be glad you didn't challenge her to a shooting contest. She would clean your clock then too. I've never seen anyone field strip an M-16 as fast as she can, and still hit the bulls-eye every time."

Jacks laughs, "I'll keep that in mind. I definitely don't have any desire to lose a bet to her again. She doesn't play fair, and next time I'd probably end up singing the Marine Crops Hymn, butt naked, on the grounds of the Naval Academy."

Harm smiles, remembering some of the terms of their bets over the years. Thankfully, most of the time, he just ended up having to cook dinner for her, which he never minded doing. He teases Jack, "Well it wouldn't be the first time you were naked on Academy grounds. However, if that ever happens again, I might just have to call the media to ensure proper coverage. I mean, I am sure there are several women out there that you turned down who might want to see what they missed out on. However, knowing my Marine as I do, it might be the White House Lawn she chooses instead of the Naval Academy."

Jack shudders at the thought. He exclaims, "I guess it's a good thing I have the JAG on retainer as defense counsel. He can defend me for the exposure, not that it would be indecent."

Harm laughs back, "I'll think about it!"