Chapter 8

Same Day

They had arranged for most of Sophie's things to be shipped to San Diego to Harm's mother's house.

He and Mac had phoned Trish that morning to apprise her of the situation. To say she was shocked would have been a gross understatement. However, any motherly concerns she had as to their motivations for the adoption were put to rest once Harm had said his peace, and by the end of the conversation, Trish was calling Frank 'Grandpa' and making plans to go shopping for her new grandbaby. Of course, the tears really started flowing when he told her about the engagement ring on Mac's left hand.

So it was agreed by all, that even if Mac and the baby stayed at her own place until Harm could join them, Sophie's things should initially be shipped to Trish and Frank's house. Mac could go through everything when she was back in town and take what she needed until they found a bigger place, or until she just gave in and moved herself and her new daughter in with her almost in-laws.

Currently, Mac was seated on the sofa in Francesca's livingroom with Sophie napping peacefully on her shoulder. Harm stood off to the side, leaning against the doorframe. He smiled as he watched Mac unconsciously rub circles on the baby's back when she whimpered in her sleep. Sophie, for her part, seemed quite comfortable in her new mommy's arms. Her tiny hands were curled into loose fists, framing her head. Her face was turned up slightly, bending her neck at an awkward angle; an observation which Harm had pointed out a few minutes ago, but was assured by Mac and Albina that it was perfectly normal. Sophie's lips were pursed in the most endearing pout, occasionally making a small sucking motion, and a little bit of drool was forming a dark circle on Mac's purple sweater. The two of them together made a beautiful picture.

He listened as Albina told Mac all about the baby's favorites. She had a pacifier that she couldn't sleep without. There was her favorite toy, a soft, yellow and orange plush lion that rattled when you shook it. Of course, she loved her mobile, a gift from her Grandpa AJ. Hanging above her crib, it displayed different types of boats and seashells in pastel colors and played "Beyond the Sea" when wound up. A lot of these types of things would have to go back to D.C. with them instead of being shipped straight to California.

The decision to leave the two women to their conversation about formulas and bottles and diapers was made when it became obvious to Harm that he was more than clueless as to what exactly was being discussed. He thought cereal was a simple enough concept, so when Albina brought up the fact that Sophie would be ready to try it soon, he questioned her logic, thinking of the Cheerio covered highchair trays at the Roberts'. Albina let out a belly laugh when Mac explained what Harm was talking about.

"No, no," she said in her thick Italian accent, "not breakfast cereal, baby cereal!" Still having no idea what she was talking about, he merely smiled and nodded, glancing at Mac to let her know that she'd need to explain that one later.

Moving into the kitchen, he found Webb closing his cell phone.

"Who was that?" He asked to the agent's back, causing him to jump slightly. "Wow, Webb, you have been out of the field for a while. I didn't know it was possible to sneak up on a spook."

Giving Harm a dirty look, he pocketed his phone and unnecessarily straightened the knot in his already too perfect tie. "That was none of your business, Rabb," he answered with an air of superiority.

"Don't pull any need to know bullshit with me, Clayton," Harm began advancing on Clay until he was toe-to-toe with the shorter man, his actions belying his casual tone of voice. "As far as you are concerned, I need to know anything and everything you do about who's responsible for AJ and Francesca." Normally he didn't like to resort to intimidation, but for Webb, he'd make an exception.

Not looking the least bit unnerved, Webb rolled his eyes and huffed. "It was a...private matter, and therefore none of your concern. Now, would you mind backing up a bit," he added curtly, "your cologne is way too strong. It's starting make my eyes water."

Backing up some, Harm had a flash of memory from the day of the funeral when Mac had told him something about Webb being engaged. Plus, he could have sworn that the shorter man was blushing slightly. Accepting Clay non-explanation, but still needing the last word, he simply replied, "Yeah, well, you smell like baby puke." There was just something about Clayton Webb that made him revert to adolescent like behavior.

"Look," Clay began as he turned toward the sink and grabbed a towel to wet under the faucet, "I'll keep you in the loop as much as I can, but I practically had to promise my first born to the higher ups to get Kershaw to give me this assignment. Sarah wasn't wrong when she pointed out that I'm more desk than field now." Webb dabbed at the spot on his jacket with the damp cloth as he turned back around.

"Why?" Harm asked, crossing his arms over his chest and raising an eyebrow.

"Why what?" Clay asked irritably, looking up from the wet patch of grossness.

"Why go to all the trouble to get the case if you don't do field work anymore?"

"I said I don't do MUCH field work," he snapped back defensively. "And maybe you're not the only one who believes that AJ and his daughter deserve justice."

Realizing he was doing more damage than anything, Webb tossed the towel in the sink and put his hands on his hips. He looked back up to Harm. "I'll keep you in the loop, but you have to stay in the background. I've been walking a thin line from the beginning. A lot of people didn't think I should have this case, and I don't need you running around playing James Bond behind my back, making my life difficult."

Harm stared Clay down for a few seconds before responding. "You swear you're on the up and up. This isn't some ploy to get back in the good graces of the powers that be at the Agency?"

"I really don't feel the need to defend my motivations to you, Rabb. I'm doing what I'm doing for my own reasons, and when it's over, I'm going back to my desk and my fiancée and my mother's boring cocktail parties."

Before Harm could reply, Albina came bustling into the kitchen. "Oh, s'cusee s'cusee, I make bottle for Miss Sophia." She busied herself with the baby formula while Harm and Clay stared one another down one last time.

"Albina," Webb finally broke eye contact to smile at the older woman, "thank you for all your help today. If I have anymore questions, I'll let you know." He turned back to Harm. "I'm going back to my hotel. I'm expecting an email from the office." He paused and looked like it almost pained him to make the next statement. "If you give me your cell number and the name of your hotel, I'll keep in touch."

Nodding once, Harm picked up the message pad and pen next to the kitchen phone and wrote down the requested information. Handing it to Webb, the two men turned and headed back to the livingroom. Trailing behind was Albina, a warmed bottle in her hand.

Mac was sitting in a rocking chair positioned next to a picture window overlooking the city. She was doing a decent job of soothing a fussy, hungry baby. Taking the bottle that Albina hurried over to her, she rubbed the nipple against Sophie's lips, smiling as the baby took it and settled down immediately to eat.

"She looks good on you, Sarah," Webb said as he grabbed his briefcase from the coffee table. She looked up to see him smiling at her. It wasn't his standard smug looking grin that Harm was used to seeing; it was an honest and heartfelt smile.

"Thank you, Clay. You should consider one someday," her returned smile was equally sincere.

Clay snorted before turning to Harm. "I'll call you before I leave for home tomorrow." He nodded once, which Harm returned then he was gone.

Albina busied herself with picking up the baby paraphernalia from around the living room and kitchen area.

Harm walked over to the rocker where Mac was quietly feeding Sophie. He squatted down in front of them and placed his large hand on the baby's small, furry head. "She's got her grandpa's appetite," he commented as he watched her suck with flourish, staring at Mac with big brown eyes. Hearing his voice, Sophie started slightly before looking over at him and smiling around the nipple in her mouth.

"That's Daddy, sweetheart," Mac said softly, bowing her head toward the little girl while making eye contact with Harm and smiling warmly. Still sucking furiously, Sophie accepted the finger he offered her. He watched as she pulled it in and hugged it close to her warm little body, melting Harm's heart instantly.

After another minute or two, Mac took the bottle from the baby and lifted her up onto her cloth-covered shoulder and began patting her back. "Albina said she just started smiling recently," she told Harm as she burped the infant. "She also said if we want to, we can stick around here tonight until she goes to sleep that way we're more familiar with her routine."

Harm nodded and stood up, wincing slightly when his knees popped. "That sounds like a plan," he smiled at the little girl when Mac brought her back down to finish her bottle. She stopped before the nipple quite made it to Sophie's open and waiting mouth.

"Do you want a turn?" she held the bottle out to Harm. He hesitated only briefly before accepting the formula. Standing from the rocker, she waited for Harm to settle in her spot before she handed over the baby. "Now, just touch her lips with the nipple," she instructed. Harm did as he was told, and in seconds, Sophie had nestled into his arms to continue her meal.

Harm could feel a warmth spread through him as he watched Sophie stare at him just as she had done to Mac while she enjoyed her meal. She looked at him with such trust and innocence that it almost scared him. However, the fear was far out weighed by an almost overwhelming sense of contentment. He looked up at Mac to see her smiling widely.

"What?" he asked with a silly grin of his own.

"You," she replied, bending down to kiss his cheek. "You've had her for all of sixty seconds, and I can already tell that you are wrapped around this little tiny finger." She held one of Sophie's small hands up and waved her little fingers in Harm's face.

Rolling his eyes at Mac, he turned to the baby. "Don't you listen to her, young lady. Just wait until you start dating. We'll see who's calling who a pushover then." He took the hand that Mac was waving around and kissed it quickly before releasing it.

The rest of the evening was spent practicing being a family together. Actually, most was spent sitting on the floor with the baby playing peek-a-boo and The Wheels on the Bus and other assorted games that Mac had learned over the years as a dedicated godmother. Harm was having the time of his life watching his tough, no nonsense marine talk baby talk and sing about farm animals.

It was after 1000 local before they headed out for the night. He didn't want to leave, and he knew that Mac had been dreading having to go back to the hotel, but that's how it had to work. Neither was comfortable staying the night with a virtual stranger in an unfamiliar house. Harm was sure that if asked, Albina would have no problem letting them take the baby for the night, but they were already unbelievably lucky that everything was coming together so easily that he didn't want to do anything that could jeopardized the adoption now. Not when it was so close to being real. So, they put Sophie to bed after giving her a bath that night, then headed back to the hotel. Tomorrow they would meet with the lawyer at Francesca's to sign the appropriate papers, then Sophie would be theirs to take home.

Once back at the Holiday Inn, Harm took the first shower, leaving Mac sitting on their bed with the photo albums that Albina had given her. Mac was adamant that Sophie have pictures of her first six weeks of life with her birth family. Harm exited the bathroom fifteen minutes later to find her still sitting in the same spot looking at pictures. Sitting down beside her, he smiled at the photo in her hand. It was little Sophie in a purple and yellow jumpsuit with a yellow bow in her hair. When Mac flipped it over for his benefit, it read 'Sophia Rachele Peretti, 12 days old' in what he presumed to be Francesca's flowing handwriting.

"She was named for Francesca's grandmothers," Mac informed him, pulling a pink baby book from underneath a pile of loose photographs. Flipping it to the first page, there was a picture of Sophie with Francesca, obviously taken just moments after her birth. Under the picture in the same flowing handwriting was a little paragraph.

'Sophia Rachele Berrelli born April 8th 2006 at 4:17 in the afternoon, 6 pounds 10 ounces, 19 inches long. Named for Great Grandmother Sophia Berrelli and Great Grandmother Rachel Chegwidden.'

Mac ran her hand across the page. "I feel guilty being so happy about becoming a mother when Francesca's chance was taken away," Mac sighed as she closed the book. Looking up at Harm with a hard, determined look in her eye she asked, "Did Webb tell you anything else?"

"No," Harm replied, running his hand through his wet hair and standing up to pace. "He's suppose to 'keep me in the loop'," Harm made exaggerated quote marks with his fingers, "but I have to stay low key. Apparently not many people at the Company are happy that Spooky Webb is back in the field for this one. He had to pull some strings to get the assignment."

"Gee, I wonder why," Mac mumbled. He knew that she was closest to Webb right before his fall from grace. She had seen what it was that his bosses were so afraid of this time around.

Trying to lighten the mood, he stopped pacing and leaned his hip against the faux wood dresser in front of the bed. "I did catch him on the phone with 'Mrs. Spooky' though. Did you know Clay can blush?" As soon as the question came out of his mouth, he back pedaled, "Never mind, I'm sure you do," which earned him a half-hearted glare. "Anyway, it seems as if our little Clayton is domesticated. I'm pretty sure he was calling to check in. Who would have ever guess." Harm shook his head in wonder, this time earning a smirk instead.

Pushing himself off the furniture, he resumed his pacing. "He's headed back home tomorrow. I gave him my cell number and the name of this place in case he came up with something..." He trailed off as he sat back down on the bed next to Mac. He picked up a picture of the admiral holding his granddaughter on his shoulder. Staring hard, Harm willed the image to tell him something, anything that would help make sense of what had happened. Unfortunately, he image of AJ Chegwidden proved to be just as stubborn as the real thing, so he finally dropped the picture back down with the others.

"Hey," Mac's voice was soft as she ran her hand up and down his arm. It felt cool and soothing against his skin, warmed from his shower. "We'll figure this out. We're Batman and Robin remember? We always win." She grinned at him when he couldn't hold back a smile at the reference.

Taking her hand off his arm, he kissed her palm, wrinkling his nose slightly when he caught a whiff of regurgitated baby formula. "Why don't you go hop in the shower while I put this stuff up. Then, my dear," he gave her a wicked smile and a wiggle of his eyebrow, "we go to bed."

Shaking her head, Mac laughed at his silliness and stood up to head for the bathroom. "If you think you're gonna get any action after you just insinuated that I stink, you've got another thing coming mister."

Harm's smile disappeared as the bathroom door closed behind her. He hated feeling useless, and that was exactly how he felt at that moment. He wanted to be out questioning witnesses and intimidating thugs, getting answers. That was his nature, finding the truth and bringing the bad guys to justice. Why was this case, one that he should be going after with a vengeance, so different? Clenching and unclenching his fists, he glanced down at the photograph covered bed. His eyes were drawn to the picture that Mac showed him earlier. He picked it up, his finger tracing the yellow bow on top of the baby's pretty little head.

She was why.

It hit him like a wrecking ball, swinging back and hitting him once again for good measure. Saturday morning the need to rip into this investigation like a pit bull out for blood had consumed him. 'Random terrorist attack my ass' he thought bitterly. He had a list of people who owed him favors and he had planned on cashing in on as many as necessary to get to the people responsible for the death of his friend.

Then Mac plopped nine pounds of baby in his arms and his whole world shifted. In fact, if he were to be totally honest, it had begun the night before at the hotel in D.C. Once it sank in that he and Mac were really going to do this, really become this innocent little person's parents, his entire decision making process was altered irrevocably. Everything else was pushed to the back burner. His family came before anything and everything. Until he had Sophie and Mac back in D.C. safe and sound and away from the ugliness that had marred the baby girl's life recently, he couldn't focus on anything else. He wanted to take his fiancée and their daughter home.

Harm smiled a genuine smile as that thought flittered though his mind. 'Our daughter,' his smile turned to goofy grin. He looked at picture after picture of Sophie as he began placing them back in the storage bin Mac had emptied them out of. There was no doubt in his mind that, given the choice, the admiral would want his granddaughter to be made top priority, and that was exactly what he was going to do. He still wanted justice, he'd still kick Webb's ass if he tried to go back on their deal. But Sophie and Mac came first.

He looked up as the bathroom door opened. Mac walked out in one of his larger tee shirts, toweling off her hair. She looked up and stopped short when she saw him. "What's with the silly smile Flyboy?" she asked playfully, yet curiously.

"Just happy to be me I guess," he replied, reclining on the bed and jerking his head to indicate that she should join him. Chuckling, she crawled over top of him on all fours and collapsed on his other side, her head landing comfortably on his bare chest. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and began running his fingers tips through the damp hair at her temple.

"This parenting stuff is exhausting," she mumbled as she relaxed into the embrace.

"I think we're up to the challenge," he stated confidently, brushing his lips across her forehead.

"Well of course, you have the Marines on your side…piece of cake," she tilted her head back to wink at him.

Harm caught her chin with one hand while the other moved from her temple to tangle in her hair. He pressed his mouth to hers, gently nipping and teasing at first. The kiss became more passionate as her lips parted with a moan of pleasure. Pulling back slowly some time later, he smiled at the dazed look on his lover's face.

Mac dropped her forehead onto his chest and groaned. "I hope you plan on sticking around, because you've ruined me for all other men for the rest of my life," she informed him very matter-of-factly.

Smirking like only a jet jock could, Harm leaned back and stretched his arms up lazily before bringing his hands down and linking his fingers behind his head. "Yeah," he began cheekily, "What can I say?" He looked down at Mac, her hands stacked palms down on his chest with her chin resting on top. "I'm a god among men."

Basking in his own pride, his pilot reflexes failed him when Mac went in for the dreaded nipple pinch.

"Yeouch! Hey!" he swiftly brought one hand down to cover the offended appendage, looking down at his fiancée in indignation.

She immediately pouted her lips at him and apologized sweetly.

"I'm sorry babe." She moved his hand and kissed her way across his chest to the wounded area, never breaking their eye contact. It was his turn to moan as she reached her goal.

Reaching up behind him and to his left, he cut the lights and rolled over, pinning her body to the mattress and her hands above her head. "You're gonna pay for that Marine."

"Bring it on, Navy."

Oh yeah, the challenge had been issued, and he was more than willing to answer. His last thought before thinking became too much of a distraction was of how they'd never have to worry about a boring sex life.

TBC

A/N: I realized while doing my last read through of this chapter that anything Francesca wrote probably would have been in Italian... but I didn't feel like changing anything. So just for chapter 8, we're going to pretend, much like they do in cartoons, soap operas, and Star Trek, that eveyone speaks English LOL.