Grandma Sarah's Farm

Bellevue

1835 hours (6:35 pm local)

Harm and Mac enjoyed their time on the hammock, each of them hoped it could continue but both knew they had to go. For them, the remainder of the day passed by quickly, each too engrossed by the other to pay attention to anything that was going on around them.

When they got back to the house earlier during they day it was found empty. Grams left them a note saying she and Trish went into town for lunch and to keep an eye on the food in the oven. The pair spent there time on the couch, cuddling and kissing, and enjoying the new level of comfort they felt with one another.

After returning from their lunch date, Grams and Trish took a nap for a few hours before getting up to serve the dinner. The dinner went by nicely, both Harm and Mac wondered when they should tell Grams and Trish about becoming a couple but didn't worry too much about it, seeing as how Mac already mentioned something about it to them earlier that day.

And now the four of them sat in the living room, the house lit only by the fire, adding to the rustic feel of the living room. Harm and Mac sit side by side on the sofa, arms linked and fingers entwined together while Trish and Grams occupied the two recliners.

They had just sat down after finishing their dinner and cleaning up the kitchen, now they needed a few minutes to rest. Harm and Mac offered to help clean up but they were shooed away from Grams and Trish so they went into the living room.

After making a fire and returning to his perch next to Mac, Harm tried to hear what Grams and Trish were talking about once he was sure he heard his name from one of them but had no such luck.

So he had turned his focus to the woman next to him. The way her hair hung to just below her shoulders, and how her eyes sparkled in the firelight. She was absolutely beautiful. Harm knew he could never get enough of this one woman and he knew he would never want to.

That was when he realized what he had to do, just not then, when his mother and grandmother were getting ready to join them. He quickly leaned over to whisper in her ear. "I need to talk to you later."

Mac looked at him confused, not sure what was on his mind. "Are you okay?" He never mentioned anything was bothering him while they were out on the hammock and she was sure he wouldn't keep something important from her.

He nodded the affirmative. "Yeah, everything's fine. We just need to talk about something after." He kissed her softly then to reassure her and linked their fingers together.

"…Harmon." The sound of his name brought him out of his reverie. He was too wrapped up in what he needed to talk to Mac about that he momentarily forgot where he was.

"What was that Grams?"

Grams smiled knowing she caught him off guard. He might have been thinking about something, but his gaze was locked onto Mac's. A genuine smile stuck to his lips. Mac had been trying to get his attention for a few seconds now, forty-seven, to be exact. But it was his grandmother's comment that got through his hazy mind.

"I said you look happy, Harmon." Grams and Trish smiled at him, knowing it was true. Harm was finally completely and truly happy. He always thought 'happy' was an emotion only associated with joy, like getting the present you wanted for your birthday or winning a case you'd been working on for many months.

But this happy was totally different. This was happiness in the middle of the day, floating on cloud nine happy. This…was love.

Harm looked over at Mac and smiled softly at her before replying. "Yeah, I guess I am happy." Mac smiled in return then placed her free hand on his arm before resting her head on his shoulder. Harm kissed the top of her head then rested his head on hers.

Both Grams and Trish couldn't hide their smiles if they wanted to. Neither one of them ever thought they'd live to see Harm in love. Of course they'd always hoped it would happen, but with his previous choice in women, they both prayed it wasn't with any of them.

But then came Sarah MacKenzie; this obviously beautiful and caring woman, one who matched Harm in every way, shape and form. This woman who challenged Harm and wasn't afraid to say what was on her mind. This woman was his partner, his equal, and his better half.

Trish sighed softly before whispering, "You are so much like your father." Harm looked at his mother and noticed the memory of her first husband pass through her always-expressive eyes.

Mac felt Harm's demeanor change slightly; he went from feeling completely relaxed to tense and rigid. She knew even hearing his father's name always did that to him, but now he had to hear his mother's comparison to him.

In an effort to comfort him, Mac squeezed his hand lightly, hoping to pass some strength to him through her gesture, while she rubbed small circles on his arm with the thumb of her other hand. Harm squeezed her hand in return then placed his free hand on her hand that rested on his arm.

Never in his life had he felt such an over-powering need for anyone in his life. He was used to needing 'Mac the partner' when it came to work but this was completely different. He needed Sarah, the woman, almost like he needed his next breath. He needed her with him…always.

Harm exhaled a small puff of breath, making sure his mother wouldn't sense anything was wrong then spoke. "How so?"

Three pairs of eyes fell on Trish, anticipating the story they all knew was coming. Her voice was soft and dreamy, like she was telling a story and reliving her memories all at the same time.

"Your father was a very strong and stubborn man. But he was also very handsome and attentive with me, much like you are with Sarah." Trish smiled softly at Harm and Mac then continued.

"When I first got to know him I thought he was this cocky teenager who thought he was god's gift to women. And he could be so…arrogant at times." Mac chuckled knowing that's exactly what she thought of Harm after knowing him for a few months, maybe even a few years. "That was until I got to know him, I mean really know him, inside and out. I got to know about his fears and aspirations, his favorite foods and favorite movie. That's when I realized he really wasn't whom he was portraying. The arrogance and cockiness was a façade he put on to hide the insecurities he had about himself."

When Trish paused, Mac allowed herself to think about Trish's comment. She always assumed Harm inherited more of his father's traits than his mothers and she was right. Trish may have been describing Harm Sr., but to Mac it was as if she were talking about her son Harm. The comparisons were eerily familiar.

"You were like that when you were a teenager; going out on dates with different girls on different nights and strutting your stuff knowing all the girls were looking." Trish smiled at the memory of Harm as a teenager then continued.

"You gave me and Frank some real hard times though, similar to the way your father did with your grandmother. And I hated the fact that you wouldn't give Frank the time of day when he asked if you wanted to help him work on the cars or go fishing. But deep down we understood, that to you Frank wasn't your father, just some man trying to replace him."

"But over the years you realized that wasn't Franks intentions. It was hard for him to step into your life, knowing you weren't going to accept him. But he never pushed you or made you feel as though he didn't want you to be his stepson. And now the two of you have a wonderful relationship."

"Now you sit in front of me, every bit of the man your father was; handsome and strong and wise way beyond your years."

Trish paused again in an effort to figure out how she wanted to say her next sentence. Mac took Trish's pause as an opportunity to comfort Harm some more. Throughout Trish's story, Mac could feel Harm tense then relax during different parts and now he tensed again at his mother's pause, unsure of where this was going. She unlaced their fingers and rested her hand on his knee while her other hand rubbed his arm, hoping to give him the strength she knew he needed.

After a few more silent moments, Trish finished. "I guess what I'm trying to say Harm, is that I'm proud of you. You've come a long way and you still managed to keep your head on straight." Trish smiled lovingly at her son and Harm returned her smile. Her story wasn't anything like he had thought. He thought it was going to be a trip down memory lane, a trip he didn't want to take. Instead it made him feel good hearing about his father. Gave him some perspective on his life.

Harm unwound himself from Mac and stood up to give his mother a kiss on the cheek and a whispered, "Thanks mom" before going to put another log in the fire at his grandmothers request.

"What about you, Grams? What was your husband like?" Mac couldn't help herself; she'd always loved hearing about Harm's family, trying to figure out which traits came from whom and the different parts that made him the man she knew.

Harm returned to his spot on the couch next to Mac, fingers tangled and heads rested together, waiting to hear what Grams had to say. The pair listened intently while Grams talked about her late husband. About the many adventures they went on together and about the lifetime they spent with one another.

Before they knew it, Grams and Trish bid them goodnight and went up stairs, leaving them alone in the living room. They stretched out on the couch, Mac lying on Harm's chest, her head burrowed into the crook of his neck. And Harm, one hand cradling her head, similar to the way one would do with a baby, while the other softly stroked her back.

Harm fought to keep his eyes open, but the ambiance of the living room and Mac's soft puffs of breath to his neck had such an affect on him, helping him feel calm and relaxed before falling asleep.

Grandma Sarah's Farm

Bellevue

2347 hours (11:37 pm local)

Mac fluttered her eyes open and knew she must have died and gone to heaven. This was just like her dream, she and Harm cuddling on the couch with a warm fire in the background, except there was something missing. The sound of light breaths, coming through a baby monitor. That was when she knew she was no longer dreaming.

Involuntarily, her body became tense with the hurt she felt, knowing that dreams were just that…dreams. And there was a very good chance they would remain only dreams.

But how could that be? It felt so real.

When she attempted to roll off of Harm without waking him, she felt his arms tighten around her.

"Where are you going?" He asked, his voice filled with sleep.

"I was just going to head up to bed. I didn't mean to wake you." Her voice sounded funny, even to her own ears. She needed some space…soon.

Harm released his hold on her and pushed himself up from the couch once she was standing. "Well wait for me." He walked over to the fire to make sure it was fully out then followed her up the stairs. She walked down the hall and was about to turn into her room when she heard his voice.

"Are you sleeping in there tonight or did you want to sleep in my room?" He hoped she was just turning towards her room out of politeness, unwilling to over-step a boundary only she knew about. But he knew once he heard her voice that wasn't going to be the case.

"Uh, no I think I'll just sleep in here. Besides, I'm sure your back must be bothering you from lying on the couch. I don't want to take up the extra space on your bed." Her voice, hesitant but final.

Harm tried not to let his disappointment show but knew it was written clearly on his face. "Oh, alright then. But you might want to grab an extra shirt. You needed one last night, remember?"

Mac simply nodded her head and went into his room to grab a shirt. When Harm went in behind her, he seen her frozen in place, top draw open and shirt in hand. That's when he realized what happened.

Mac stared at it, not knowing she had company. It wasn't there last night and she was pretty sure Harm never left the farm, so he couldn't have gotten it today. Unless he had it all along?

When Harm cleared his throat, Mac jumped quickly and shut the draw. She turned, unable to make eye contact with him and went into her room for the night without a word.

The only thought on his mind was, "Good going, Rabb."