Sorry for lack of posting on this or the new story. These two weeks have been h. Making a long story short - Work got in the way, my stomach was having issues, I had my wisdom teeth coming out (got it removed yesterday - THANK GOD! - If it was closer, I'd have gotten pliers and yanked it meself:P), well I got another cold (dentist suspects that the tooth lowered my immune system and since it was so far back and near my throat it just got me sick.) And, the coud de gras - I sliced my thumb on Sunday trying to cut some veggies for some dish my grandmother was making. I probably needed stitches, but I am not a doctor fan superglue worked though. Yes, I am insane. . . So there, I plead my case, but I did work on this. I am hoping that tomorrow, I'll start posting 'The Thin Line.' Going to give it a read tonight, and add a few things. The first few chappies are very heavy Harm and Mac before we jumble it up. ;)

Thanks for sticking by guys! You rock my world. :) Hope everyone had a Happy Easter!Jackie

Thanks to: e-dog, Macaroon, BeachChick, Dessler, dansingwolf, Maria, blueangel, Vrbinka, BiteBeccy, SarahRabb, my.evian, anna, Jaggie107, snugglebug, Manda, Lisa, cbw, Xblue, froggy, aserene, crazybum, VrbinkaCZE, sally, trooper, starryeyes, Martini, NavyBabe, jaggurl, Nix, joanoa, jagdreamer, Kinga, JAGChic, Jagfan 724, littlemaccyd, ninjaturtle, blueangel, Kinga, JK, zoomie, myevian, CathyF, CBW, jagdreamer, joanoa, alix33, arian, Lurkz, and mizukimar for the feedback:)

Part 9 – Terms Of Endearment

"You are such a dork!" I turn very dramatic and slow to face the entryway to Mac's kitchen. It's Saturday afternoon and I agreed to make her some Fettuccini Alfredo with Italian chicken. Which is basically a glorified way of saying: chicken marinated in Italian dressing. Anyway, she had to head out to Norfolk at the last moment Friday night because a client of hers decided to run. That resulted in her staying at the VOQ and having to head back today. Whilst she was away, Harmon Rabb decided to play.

Grinning, I spy Mac in jeans and one of my old Naval Academy T-shirts that she's managed to expropriate. Damn, she looks cute. Even cuter though, is the fact that she is standing there in jeans and t-shirt holding a stuffed, lime green, rather large, some-sort-of-dactyl. It's that dinosaur that flies?

This morning I decided to take little AJ and Jimmy out for some godfather-godson bonding. When I was busy spoiling them at the Smithsonian's gift shop, and picking up a few things for the twins, little AJ pointed at this large selection of stuffed dinosaurs. "Want to get one for Aunt Mac, buddy?" AJ nodded enthusiastically and picked the lime green. . .uh. . . petroleumdactyl. .no no, close but no. . .Ah! Pterodactyl! Whatever fur they used on the dino was great, soft, fluffy and fuzzy. I think it's made from that company that makes those stuffed toys for infants? You know? The soft, fluffy and fuzzy kinds that you can't rip the hair out of?

So, anyway, back to Mac. What did she just call me? "Did you just call me a dork?" I lean against the counter placing my hands on my waist.

Mac walks over to me, still holding the stuffed dino. She has this bright smile that is lighting up her kitchen even more. "Yup, you're a dork."

"You do know that dork means whale penis, right?" At least, that is what I read once.

But, she seems to disagree. "Nope, it means a human one, then around 1967 people starting referring to stupid or obnoxious people as 'dorks.' Maybe I am using the wrong adjective though." She gets this playful look in her eyes and I am here stuck trying to remember how to breathe again. How does she do this to me? And why, after so many years of hiding it, is it so difficult to hide now? "Nah, yer definitely a dork." She giggles, and leans in to kiss me. The dinosaur is shoved between us as Mac is clutching it like a little kid with a new gift. "Thank you." She says softly as we break apart.

Still, I have something that needs to be answered. "Why am I a dork?"

Mac starts laughing and leans against the counter still clutching the dinosaur. "You are so full of crap sometimes, Harm. That's why you're a dork." Okay, sorry, I don't get it. Maybe we men really are obtuse. No, I take that back! I will not destroy the good name of our gender. She lets out an indignant huff and rolls her eyes. "Okay, I know I'll have to clarify so here goes. . .You said you're an Anti-Romantic. That the whole romance thing isn't real, it isn't for you. . .yadda yadda yadda. But. . ." She trails off and sets the dinosaur on the counter. Mac studies it for a moment then turns and smiles brightly at me. "No man has ever been this sweet. . .or, dare I say, romantic, to me."

I raise an eyebrow in confusion. Since when is a stuffed animal romantic? "It's just a stuffed dinosaur, Mac."

"Yes it is." She nods in agreement. "But, it also means that you bothered to pay attention to my interests." I am about to argue that point as well, when she raised her hand and shuts me up. "The roses, the table set up with candles, the soft music. . .We never did that before as friends. . .Yet, you do it now that we are together. . .that, my friend, is romantic."

You know, it never really occurred to me that the things I have been doing had any element of romance. I've been trying to set a mood to keep us both in that, feel good state when enjoying intimate encounters such as dinner and well. . .other things. I turn and start to stir the pasta which has decided to chose this inopportune moment to stick. "So did you like the dino?"

Out of the corner of my eye I see her gently take him off of the counter and hug it tight. "I LOVE him. Petey is just cute!"

"Petey?"

"Yes, Petey the Pterodactyl." I raise my eyebrow and am about to ask where that name came from when Mac produces the tag and shows me it's name. "See – Petey the Pterodactyl." She laughs again then gives me a kiss on the cheek before adding a final. "Dork."

I let her walk off, then start to take the dishes onto the table. Mac puts Petey down on one of the other chairs and heads into the kitchen to get the rest of our meal. "You know, MacKenzie, there are other terms of endearment that we can consider."

"Oh really?" She says, heading out with the sauce and pasta.

"Yup." Sitting down, I immediately start dishing up our plates as Mac heads into bring back some mineral water. "Scnookums, cupcake, sweetums, muffin, honeybun. . .sugarlips. . ." I trail off when I note the look of annoyance Mac is shooting me.

"Say any of that to me out loud and I swear, I will not be responsible for my actions." She chuckles slightly, shaking her head. "Sugarlips?" She swallows down a bit of food then gives me this cute, mischievous little look. "How about sweet-thing?"

"Sweet-thing?" I choke out. It's unbelievable that she remembers that. God, I wanted to crawl under the rug in Chegwidden's office after I let that little term sneak out.

Mac grins and this conversation is taking an interesting turn. "Yes, I remember, quite well, really. . . You called me that once." I figure it will stop there, but after a few more bites of fettuccini, she continues to tease me. "And you reached out to touch me. . .You had this look of confusion, it was actually pretty cute."

"Ah, yea, well, I. . ."

"And then you changed the conversation. Pass the garlic bread please." I reach across to her and hand the bread basket over. She takes one slice and starts munching on it thoughtfully. Sighing dramatically, she props her head up with her hand and glances at me lovingly. "So. . .Why'd you call me that?"

Chuckling, I wave my fork at her. "You know, I really do like this new banter of ours. . .It's fun." I take a bite out of the pasta then sigh. Wow, that was sooooo long ago. And you know what? I've never, ever, ever stopped fantasizing about her. "I am not sure if it was the bump on my head, or my fear of you getting married to Mic. . ." We both wince at the mention of the Aussie's name and I immediately continue. "Uh, when you walked in, I didn't see you. I saw a fantasy of you." I grin at the thought. Sure, I'd fantasized about her before then. But, this was different, I was at work, the place where I was usually in 'control.' But, I lost it that day and every day after, the fantasies were just stronger, realer. Sometimes I'd literally feel her in my arms. "You were wearing this sexy as hell white evening gown."

"At JAG?" She says with laughter in her voice. I'd have laughed too, but the thoughts of Mac was doing other things to me.

"You walk in and tell me that it's going to rain and that it's. . ." Oh, boy was that my favorite part. Her voice, God! – Thud – If I hadn't already clocked my head, I probably would have clocked it the moment she said. "perfect weather for making love."

Mac is giving me this sexy grin. "Well, fantasy me was right about that."

I am temped to just forget about dinner and reenact a few fantasies, but I'll make her wait. With a grin, I reach over and take her hand. "So, what sort of terms of endearment do you have for me?"

She eyes me up and down, then bites her lower lip seductively. I feel my control start to slip again. "Well, there are so many good ones. . . sugarbritches, hotstuff, pumpkin." I cringe at each of those, then Mac waggles her eyebrows. "But, after knowing you so intimately. . .The perfect term for you is Big Sexy."

"Big sexy?" I choke out.

Mac just nods. "Yup, that describes you head to toe." And I, for one am not going to disagree with her.

TO BE CONTINUED…