A/N: Welcome to Chapter 6! Chapter 6 out of 2…(chuckles ruefully). There's nothing like having to stay home with your daughter because she has pink eye to let you get some writing in. And now I'm off to catch up on the ever-pressing charts…

Lost and Found

Chapter 6: Forgive

2328 Local

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown

"Why don't you sit down and get comfortable while I make us some tea." Mac led Harm over to her couch, her hand on his arm.

He lowered himself to the sofa, sitting gingerly on the edge of the seat cushion and looking anything but comfortable. "Mac, you don't have to go to any trouble."

"It's no trouble, Harm. I was just about to make some before you knocked."

Harm studied her for a moment and finally nodded. "That would be good, Mac. Thanks."

Mac left him there and made her way to her kitchen. She turned on the burner under the kettle and gathered the proper supplies while she thought about the recent turn of events.

As they stood at the door, Harm's hand between hers, his uncertainty had rolled off of him in waves. He'd slowly lowered his head, focusing on their joined hands for long seconds before finally meeting her eyes and nodding. Mac had seen the sheen of tears in his eyes and it made her own eyes fill as well.

The kettle whistled, and in short order Mac was bringing in a tray with their mugs along with sugar and milk. Harm was still in his coat, still perched on the edge of the seat, nervously playing with his keys.

Mac set the tray down in front of him. "Harm, you can take off your coat." He smiled sheepishly and worked the well-worn jacket off his shoulders as she held her hand out for it. She draped it carefully over one of her elegant living room chairs, then sat herself down in the opposite corner of her sofa, turning toward Harm and tucking her bare feet underneath her. Harm handed Mac her tea, and she smiled when she realized he'd prepared it for her just as she liked.

They sat in silence, sipping out of their mugs, until Mac decided it was now or never. She leaned forward and set her tea on the table in front of them, then angled herself back toward Harm. "Harm…"

Harm set his tea on the table as well but kept himself facing forward. He nervously scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, then rested his elbows on his knees, swiping his hands over his face. "Mac, I…I don't even know where to start…"

Mac scooted toward him on the couch, enough that she could reach out and brush his arm. "Then I'll start. Harm, I want to thank you for giving me the space and time I asked for. I needed it; honestly, I think we both needed it to regroup and see things from a different perspective. So, thank you, Harm."

Harm stared straight ahead for long moments before dipping his head and glancing over at her. "I didn't want you to go." His voice was raw, barely above a whisper, and Mac wanted nothing more than to close the distance between them and take him into her arms. She held back, though, knowing they still had much to say to each other.

"Harm, I—I didn't want to go either, but it seemed my being there was making us both miserable. It just got so hard to be around you. You had every right to be angry with me after Paraguay, but you weren't just angry. You seemed to hate me too."

He opened his mouth to protest that last statement, but she held up her hand, shaking her head as she continued speaking. "If things had continued on as they were, we would have ended up tearing each other apart in the bullpen. The admiral would have had no choice but to transfer at least one of us, and after what you gave up to save me in Paraguay, I couldn't let it be you."

Mac slid even closer and rested a hand on his arm, and after a few beats he covered it with his own.

"Mac, I…I still don't know what to say to you, how to tell you how absolutely sorry I am, for everything. But I never hated you. I could never hate you…you mean more to me than just about…I mean, I don't hate you, Mac." He took in a deep, shuddering breath. "Those words I said to you, during the Yates trial…I still can't believe I said them. I— "

Harm moved his arm from her grasp and buried his face in his hands. Neither said anything for several seconds as Mac watch Harm struggle to regain his composure. She couldn't resist placing a comforting hand on his back and rubbing a few small circles over it.

"Why did you say them?" she asked softly.

"Because I knew they would hurt you." Mac gasped involuntarily at that, taking her hand away from his back and drawing her knees up to her chest. Of course, his words were designed to hurt, but to think he'd deliberately, consciously—

As if he'd read her mind, Harm hastened to reassure her. "No, Mac. I didn't consciously think, 'these words will hurt Mac, the way she hurt me.' They just slipped out, but I've known you so long. I know which buttons to push. I know your weaknesses, just the way you know mine. It's probably why we're so good at hurting each other, why we can do it without even thinking."

Now, THAT was a depressing thought.

"But I honestly thought I'd never hurt you like that."

She smiled ruefully at him. "You know, Harm, I honestly thought you'd never hurt me like that, either."

Harm winced. "Mac, if I could, I'd go back in time and…and…"

"And what, Harm?"

He looked pained and his voice was tight. "Not let you go. Not let Webb drag you along on a mission that I knew wasn't going to end well. I should have told you— "

He cut himself off and scrubbed a hand over his face, then dropped his head in a gesture of obvious defeat.

Told me what? "Harm…"

"Nothing, Mac. I just should have told you not to go."

Mac knew that wasn't the whole of it. She also knew she couldn't push Harm and expect a well thought out answer. He'd either snap at her or clam up entirely, getting them nowhere.

Neither said anything for a few moments and the silence was heavy around them.

Mac took in a deep breath. "You know, Harm, I wish I could go back in time too, before the whole Singer mess…I should have known something was going on there. I could have helped you…I could have kept you from ending up in the brig, maybe then—"

"Maybe then you wouldn't have gone to Paraguay."

Mac looked up at him sharply. Was that really why she'd gone to Paraguay? To hurt Harm? Because she was angry that he'd kept her so in the dark? "Is that what you think, Harm?" She really wanted to know, because at this moment, she was afraid he might be right.

"I don't know, Mac," he sighed. "I think…I think that may have been part of it. We'd been growing closer before all of that, and then I basically cut you out of one of the more pressing issues in my life. I think...I'm sure…I hurt you."

You did, Harm. She still remembered the shock of finding out about Harm's activities of the past months from Agent Gibbs, the NCIS agent who questioned her when Harm was the chief suspect in Singer's murder. "Why didn't you tell me, Harm? I would have helped you, even if…" She looked down at her hands.

"Even if what, Mac?" She felt the heat of his stare even if she couldn't see it. "Even if what?"

She didn't want to answer this one. She was embarrassed and angry with herself for even thinking it. She supposed, though, that this was the time to put everything out there about the past several months. She raised her head and looked Harm in the eye. "Even if it turned out you were the father of Singer's baby."

Harm's eyes widened. "You thought…you thought I could have actually been with Singer?!" He looked shocked and indignant all at once.

"I don't know, Harm! All of that happened, you'd been so secretive about it, and then I couldn't even talk to you in the brig. I didn't know what to think…but you'd offered to raise the baby and I couldn't think of any other reason why you wouldn't tell me about it…why you would have felt the need to keep it from me if it wasn't because you were having a baby with someone else." She was ashamed of those thoughts now. Of course, Harm could never have been with Singer. "I'm sorry, Harm."

She saw the hurt and anger briefly flash in his eyes, but then they dropped in sadness and resignation. "No, Mac…I'm sorry. You wouldn't have thought that if I hadn't given you a reason to. It is my fault you went to Paraguay. If I had just done things differently…"

Mac scooted closer to Harm again and took his hand in hers. He really had been right about the Singer issue being a part of her decision to go to Paraguay, but the fact of the matter was that she was first and foremost a marine, sworn to protect her country. "No, Harm. We both know I would have gone anyway. We might have parted on better terms, but I still would have done my duty, the same way you would have, to stop a terrorist. And you—"

"And I would have still tried to protect you during the Singer situation. It's my—"

"Nature," she finished for him. "It's your nature. It's why you still came for me after all of that." She squeezed his hand.

"Mac, that's not…I mean, yes, you're right. But I'm still sorry."

"Me too, Harm." Mac chewed on her lip, another question she wasn't sure she should ask forming in her mind. "Harm?"

He squeezed her hand back. "Yeah, Mac?"

"What went wrong in Paraguay?" Other than you intended to propose and I managed to screw that all up.

"Wrong? You survived. We destroyed the stinger missiles. We didn't get Sadik then, but they got him later anyway. I'd say things went pretty right."

"No, I mean, what went wrong with us?"

At that, Harm snorted. "What didn't?"

"You weren't happy to find me. You sniped at me and I sniped right back. There was moment when I thought you were going to…but then we were interrupted…and you didn't want to talk about us anymore. And then I said…what I said."

"Never."

"Yeah, never." It hurt to hear the word, more to say it again. "I'm sorry about that too, Harm."

He went on as if she hadn't even spoken. "And you kissed Webb."

Her head snapped up at that. "What?"

"You kissed Webb."

"You saw…of course you did, you were right there. Harm, it didn't mean anything. I truly thought he was going to die. We couldn't help but grow closer while Sadik had us. Harm, I—I had to listen to him scream for hours, I—" She swallowed hard and brushed a tear from her face. It was still so difficult to think about that time. "He let them torture him to keep them from me, Harm. I was grateful to him, I felt so guilty—it was me who insisted we go back for Gunny and because of that we got caught—and he kept going on about how he liked being my wife…so I did the only thing I could think of to comfort a dying man who'd told me he loved me. I basically did the same thing then that I did with Dalton…and I shouldn't have, and I feel terrible about it and guilty and—" Mac's voice had risen with each word and her tears were now flowing freely. She'd felt so horrible about telling Dalton she loved him when she most certainly didn't that she fell off the wagon after more than a decade of sobriety. And then she kissed Clay for basically the same reason…well, not the same really…she truly did care for Clay. But still…

Mac didn't realize she was crying and starting to hyperventilate until she felt Harm's arm go around her and pull her into his side. "Hey, hey, Marine. It's okay. It's okay. I'm sorry. I was jealous. I shouldn't have acted that way I did. I was happy to see you. I was so grateful you were alive. I don't know what I would have done if I'd been too late…I—" Harm was getting choked up too.

Mac sank into Harm's embrace. It felt good to be this close to him again. She allowed herself a few minutes to enjoy the warmth and strength of his arms around her, then started to pull away. Harm let go immediately and they both took a few more moments to compose themselves.

"I still shouldn't have kissed him," she whispered. "Harm, I've been telling the truth, though. There really is nothing more than friendship between me and Clay. He wanted more, but I…didn't." Because I want it from you.

"I know, Mac. I've just been an ass about it."

No arguments there. But there was one more thing… "Harm, that, um, never…I didn't mean it. Nothing went the way it was supposed to on that mission, I wasn't thinking clearly, we'd both been so mean…but I…I didn't mean it. I just…I just wanted you to know that."

Harm's whole body seemed to relax with that. Mac had already apologized for the never, but it seemed he at last believed her. She had seen the look in his eyes when she'd said those fateful words at the taxi stand; she should have taken it back right then and there. She'd obviously hurt him, and though she'd known as soon as the word left her mouth that it wasn't true, pride and her own hurt kept her from fixing things right then and there.

Harm reached over and briefly clasped her hand. "Thank you, Mac." He leaned back into the cushions of her couch. He looked exhausted and she was sure she looked no different. It was getting late; in fact, it was already Christmas Day. Her lips quirked up into a smile.

"Merry Christmas, Harm."

He grinned back, and for the first time in months she saw some of her flyboy in his smile. "Merry Christmas, Mac." But then his expression grew serious again.

"Mac…one more thing. We've certainly covered a few important things tonight…but we didn't finish our discussion about what I said in court and in the bullpen, regarding your, uh, addiction. I don't think there is anything I can do or say to make that okay and I wish I could go back and change it all, but I can't. I'm sorrier than I can ever say about it all. I hope you can one day forgive me. I think you are amazing and so strong…I'm so impressed that you overcame your addiction and then became this kickass jarhead lawyer who's so, and forgive me for being so...well, male, beautiful that I'm always afraid none of the men, and frankly some of the women, on the jury won't listen to a word I say when I'm in court with you. And I never once thought you were weak after Dalton, despite what I said…you got right back on the wagon and you've stayed there. Even after Paraguay. You are incredible; actually, that doesn't even begin to describe what you are. I just wanted you to know that."

Mac felt a tear slide down her cheek and she felt Harm's hand cup her cheek and brush away. She leaned into his palm, turning into it to give it the lightest of kisses before she sat back again. She saw him lose a battle with a huge yawn. She had to chuckle a bit at the sight.

"What time does your flight leave tomorrow, Harm?"

Another yawn escaped as he answered her. "0900, which means I should probably get home. I still need to pack."

She smiled to herself. That was so typical of Harm. They stood up from the sofa. "Yes, you should. Harm, thank you again for the bracelet. I do love it. I—I wanted to get you something too, but I…I didn't know if I should or even what you'd want. I'm sorry."

Harm brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's okay, Mac. We haven't been the best of friends of late. Speaking of which, I do want to change that. When I get back, would you want to have lunch with me, maybe go for a run sometime?" He looked at her expectantly.

"I would love that, Harm. I've missed you." She was embarrassed to feel her eyes fill with tears again, until she looked up and saw the tears in Harm's eyes as well.

"I've missed you too, Ninja Girl." He held his arms out to her and she went into them willingly. He held her close as she wrapped her arms around his waist, her head fitting perfectly under his chin and over his heart. The firm, steady beat of it thumped against her ear and for the first time since Paraguay and the Singer mess, she felt peace. Her friend was back.

She felt Harm's kiss to the crown of her head and then he let go of her. She immediately mourned the loss of him, but she knew she had to let him go. "Merry Christmas," she said again as she handed him his coat and walked him to the door.

Harm stepped across the threshold into the hall and turned around to face her again. "Merry Christmas," he answered back. He stared down at her for several seconds, while several unreadable storms passed through his eyes. "Um, Mac?"

"Yeah, Harm?" She was starting to squirm under his scrutiny.

"The whole thing with Singer, the idea that you thought I might have gotten someone else pregnant…"

Mac lowered her head as her cheeks burned with embarrassment and shame, but then she felt his hand raising her chin so he could look her in the eye.

"I have never wanted someone else to have my children." His piercing gaze left her with no doubt of his meaning. Then he was gone, leaving her stunned in her doorway.

And for the first time in months, she felt the tender touch of hope.

End Chapter 6