Disclaimer: For general disclaimer, see Part I.

This is it… last part… grand finale… shipper alert:-) Please enjoy!

o o o o o o

It was late when she heard the soft knock on her door. Reluctantly, she untangled herself from the blanket she had been wrapped up in on the couch, worried it might be Mic coming back. She felt in no condition to go through all that with him again. But when the door swung open, it once again revealed Harm. His expression was slightly reluctant, slightly worried. More of what she was used to seeing when he showed up at her doorstep late in the evening. Still, she no longer felt sure she could trust what she was seeing. He didn't say anything, which was strange, since it was him that had shown up at hers. So was he real, or was her mind once more conjuring up images borne by wishful thinking?

Incapable of forming a single word, she instead reached out her hand toward his face. Slowly, reverently, she traced her fingertips over his features, memorizing and comparing every curve and angle, every hill and valley by touch alone. Hoping that touch, instead of vision, could assure her that he was really there.

Her caresses wandered over his cheekbones, the rims of his ears, his forehead. Her fingertips stroked across the bridge of his nose, the arcs of his eyebrows, traced the swing of his lips and learned the curves of his jaw. Her fingers were so soft, warm and loving. Stroking trails of fire over his skin. His knees almost buckled. None of Renée's even bolder touches had ever invoked as much feeling and emotion in him as Mac's soft, innocent caresses.

Once more, she seemed in a daze, in a world of her own, and the worry he felt for her nagged at the edges of his brain until he had the wherewithal to withdraw from the delicious torture. He took a hold of her hand and shook her lightly, until she finally seemed to snap out of her trance. A soft, just this side of embarrassed smile played upon her lips.

"Hi," she whispered. She didn't know why she felt the need to whisper.

"Hey." His answering smile turned her insides gooey.

"Ah, come on in." She stepped aside, and he entered her apartment.

"Mic isn't here?" It suddenly occurred to him that she was engaged, and maybe he shouldn't have shown up quite so late at night.

"No, he isn't," she answered, while making her way over to the kitchen to put on the kettle for some tea. "And he won't be back anymore either…" She mumbled that last part, mostly to herself, but of course, he had heard it.

"What? Why?"

"We broke up, Harm. I just finally admitted to myself that this just wasn't working." There was so much more to it, but that needed to be left for another time, another day… when she was more coherent, more capable of facing her demons; the ones that she had allowed to once more oppress her, and the ones that came back swiftly, now that she was alone again, naturally.

"When did that happen?"

"Tonight, actually."

He chuckled. "So I guess your evening was as interesting as mine…" She threw him a questioning look. "I broke up with Renée."

"What? Why?" Now it was her turn to ask the very same questions.

"Irreconcilable differences…" he hedged. But she didn't buy it; her pointed look and single quirked eyebrow said more than any words could. Had she ever really bought his diversionary tactics?

"Commitment issues. I finally realized that she wanted what I couldn't give her, not when…"

Her breath caught. "When what?" Her eyes were large and questioning, big brown pools of warmth that he could drown in if he ever let himself. Was it really the right time to answer this question truthfully now, after a tandem break-up? Was there really a way out of not answering her honestly at this point? They were both here, in the same place, at the same time, unattached, and wanting.

He turned away from her for a moment and dropped heavily onto her couch. "You called me Honey today." He had to smile at the memory; it had felt good. Right. "Where did that come from?"

Trying to hide her awkwardness over the question, she fiddled with her fingers, entwining them, studying her nails. "Harm, I was… sort of…" She twisted her Marine Corps ring around her finger. "… daydreaming…" She still couldn't look him in the eyes, but dropped down on the sofa next to him.

"About me?"

She nodded in affirmation, but still didn't look at him. She looked so beautiful. Her hair was mussed up, she was wearing a huge bathrobe that hid every part of her amazing body, her shoulders were slouched, and she was the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen. She was strong and capable, loving and caring, insecure and vulnerable. Every inch of her a mysterious, interlocking contradiction.

The floodgates were open once more, and what he'd merely skirted past earlier at his apartment was now back with full force. His mind raced through countless pictures as if he was looking through a flip-book. He saw flashes of them living together, him on one knee, a ring on her finger, a wedding. Her belly growing with his child inside, buying a house, a baby in her arms. Every step, every aspect of his future – she was there.

He reached for her shoulders to pull her closer towards him. He wasn't hugging her yet, not by a long shot. There was still space between their bodies, a narrow gap that sparkled with the zing of fireworks, the heat of them going up in flames. Finally, she looked up at him, and their gazes locked. Brown mingling with blue and green, the colors of the earth and the sea and the sky. Swirling together. Encompassing the world. Their world.

"Tell me about the dream," he whispered.

"Well, there was you…" Her voice was low and soft, answering every hope and prayer he had held hidden in the deep recesses of his heart. His hand went around her waist. "And?"

"…and me…"

He pulled her closer now, their bodies finally touching from shoulders to hips, and she lost the ability to breathe. "And?"

His face was close now, his lips even closer. Her entire being was tingling, heat rushed into her cheeks. Anticipation. Need. Desire.

"…and our baby…"

And then his lips were finally on hers. She sank towards him, wrapped her arms around his neck, while his mouth claimed her in every imaginable way, and in some previously unimagined. He pulled her impossibly closer, then lifted her up so she was in his lap. At the first connection of their lower bodies, sparks flew and they both moaned simultaneously. They met with urgent need and fiery passion. With aching tenderness and bubbly joy. Their lips finally speaking the language of their hearts. She could now truthfully admit that she had never been truly kissed before, not like this.

Reluctantly, but with an incredible need to do so, she pulled slightly away. Cradled his face in both her hands, and connected with his eyes. "This is really happening? I'm not hallucinating?"

He nodded, solemn and serious. "This is really happening."

The smile that followed threatened to split her face in two. "I love you, Harm." Then threw her arms back around him.

He wrapped her up in his embrace, to underscore his words with every touch he gave. "I love you, too."

And then her mouth was on his again, and his body on hers, and no hallucination could hold a candle to how reality would turn out for Harm and Mac – two people who were finally where they had always belonged. With each other.

THE END

AN: I actually had a blast writing this story, and I sure hope you all enjoyed this little excursion! Special Thanks to everybody who has taken the time to review along the way - whenever a review pops in, and I read that you guys enjoy what I write, I get this huge grin on my face, I'm all giddy and excited ... it simply makes my day!! Thank you!