Hey gang! Yep, another trip into Harm and Mac's life. I love these, I really do. They are funny and goofy. I hope you like this part, I've deleted and re-written it about three times.

Thanks for all of the feedback on this one. :) It's been fun to write. I might have another chapter for you guys next week, if not, when I come back!

Jackie

Part 23 – Warm And Fuzzy Feelings

"Wait up!" Ugh, I can't run anymore, my body is just blah today. I know why too, I am coming down with a cold, my body is about to be invaded by germs. Actually, it probably is already invaded and death will soon be eminent. With a sigh, I stop, bending over to place my hands on my knees in order to find some air to breathe. Running today was just NOT a good idea, but as I took one look at Mac in her running attire, I couldn't restrain myself. What a moron I was!

I am huffing and puffing, thoughts of passing out are racing through my mind. It's hot, sticky, disgusting and raining. "ACK! THANK YOU!" Some very nice Samaritan on a bicycle has just skidded to a stop in order to turn down a bike path and has spritz me with icky, muddy water from head to toe. This day just CAN'T get any worse.

I feel her hand on my back, patting me slightly as she trots in place next to me, trying to keep her heart rhythm from dropping. "You alright there, flyboy?" Ugh, it CAN get worse, Mac's in a disgustingly, chipper mood. I guess I would be too given the circumstances. She's had her casts off for several weeks and went through some tough therapy. Now, it appears that she is back and better than ever.

As I stand, still trying to catch my breath, memories flash of her first few therapies. I swear, I thought she'd never make it out alive. Her first attempt at getting her broken bones working properly was more like an exorcism. Mac used every friggin' curse word in the books and even some in Farsi as her limbs were pulled and stretched to different angles. It was kind of amusing; especially since she told me it would be 'no sweat.' Uh huh, well, there was A LOT of sweat involved and words I've only heard aboard a ship when us boys in our boys club trade our tawdry tales.

Now, the second therapy session had me, literally, running out of the place. Mac's first therapist wasn't available so another therapist named Patty, a woman that looked like a deranged Nurse Barbie doll, stood in. The woman thought that I had caused the injury to Mac; apparently they'd had several domestic dispute cases. To say that she didn't like me was an understatement. Every time I would encourage Mac, Attila the Therapist would fix me with a death glare not unlike my Marine's.

Seeing that I wasn't quite helping Mac, (Attila the Therapist wanted me to pull her leg one way and I was afraid I'd hurt her, so I just didn't do anything), she tossed me out of the room leaving me standing outside while another round of exorcism began. This time, not only was Mac screaming, but Patty was too, screaming back at her. Embarrassed I sat outside in one of the guest chairs, those waiting giving me odd glances as I tried to chuckle it off. "Ah, my girlfriend . . .she's in a lot of pain." Around the third bout with Patty, I call one of the doctors over, voicing my concerns over Attila's methods only to find out that Patty was, 'the best' they had. God, I didn't even want to think about the worst.

I was turning bright red hearing the words that Mac and Patty yelled at each other. I mean, not for nothing, I curse and I know Mac does too, but the words 'overly colorful' come to mind. It sounded like to women in a catfight over a man, you know what I mean. The only thing missing was the loud, annoying screeches. Hoping that a cup of coffee could calm MY nerves (I was waiting for Mac to come out and kill me suddenly for leaving her alone.), I head off in search of the cafeteria.

This was, perhaps, the dumbest move I made. In my return, I expected to find them at it again, but no, instead, I heard LAUGHTER. Yep, Patty and Mac were LAUGHING. So, I snuck my head inside, taking a look around to see Mac still laying on the therapy table and Patty rubbing her down with some odd smelling liquid. I didn't ask what was so funny, I figured, SOME things, had to be kept a mystery. As I walked out with Mac, Patty DID apologize for kicking me out, however, she figured that for Mac to progress, I needed to stay outside because I was a 'distraction.' Well, that I couldn't deny.

"You know, at the moment I kind of wish you still had your casts on." Wrong thing to say, I know, but I am grumpy and in the mood to let everyone know it.

Mac slaps me on the shoulder; the rainwater that has collected on my shirt splatters slightly. "Not funny, flyboy. . .You have NO idea what it's like to go through physical therapy."

Actually, I do. With a sigh, I stand up and fix Mac with a glare. "You aren't the only one that went through pain, Mac. . .During the ramp strike, I didn't have time to eject properly, so I hit the deck extremely hard and broke both my legs. . . I was in traction FOREVER and let's not forget the therapy after I crashed in the Atlantic." Looking up, I see those big, expressive, brown eyes of hers cloud over slightly. She looks like she's about to cry.

"You didn't have to snap at me, Harm. . .I forgot about your knee, if you remember, I was on the LHA when you went through therapy. . . and I didn't know about your ramp strike." She walks off slightly, coming to rest against a tree as I hear her mumble. "You never tell me about your past."

I guess she is right about that. There are aspects of my past that I lock away from myself and others. It's not a good thing, especially if I want this thing between us to grow. But, I've learned by experience that few of the women I've been involved with want to know THAT much about my life. "Mac, I don't want you mad at me."

"I'm not MAD at you, Harm. . .but you've been in a bad mood all day." She raises a brow, kicks off from the tree and comes to my side. There's a new expression on her face as if she figured something know no one else knew. Raising her hand up, she presses the back of it to my forehead. ARGH! Why does everyone automatically think that the back of their hands are substitutes for thermometers? "Harm, you're hot."

"So are you." I say with a half grin, which is completely obliterated by a very loud sneeze. "Oh no, I'm sick."

"Yea, no shit. . .Damnit, why didn't you TELL me you felt bad this morning?" You know, I should have. In fact, I was going to, but it's normal for Mac to pull me out of bed for a morning run on Saturday's, so nothing seemed out of the ordinary except for my regular hatred for mornings. Thing is, she really, really, really looks hot in this ribbed, sleeveless running shirt and mid-thigh high running shorts. I couldn't help myself. I had to follow. One of her arms wraps around my waist as she helps me stand. "C'mon, lets get you home."

"I guess it doesn't help that we didn't bring our cars, huh?" I joke slightly but Mac is having nothing of it. No, it looks like she's about to stick her own therapy into me, probably right over the base of my skull.

Running, it would take us about 5 minutes to get to the park from Mac's apartment. Walking and with me puking my lungs out, try 40 minutes. That fever I had, got worse, a lot worse. We stand by one of the bushes outside of her apartment building. Actually, Mac stands, I double over and hurl. "Ugh. . .Make it stop."

I feel her hand running soothing circles on my back. It feels so nice that had it not been because it is still pouring out, I would have happy collapsed right here, letting Mac do her magic on me. "We need to get you upstairs, in a hot shower with some hot tea and in my bed." She rambles off, "And I don't want to HEAR any innuendoes, Harm. . . I am REALLY upset with you."

"I'm sorry, Mac, but I really didn't feel THIS bad. . .else." Another wave of nausea hits and, thankfully I am able to stop before it kills me.

It takes another 5 minutes before I am able to walk with Mac up into the building, ride in the elevator and then head towards her apartment. Once inside, she begins stripping me. My shirt, shorts, shoes, socks and briefs are all a wet pile on the floor and I stand, completely naked in her living room. Mac takes off her own clothes, piling them along with mine and, also naked, leads me through the apartment.

We, well, I, stumble into the bathroom and Mac helps me into the tub, running the shower rather hot. "Mac! Jesus!"

"Harm, you're frozen, you need to get warm before you get worse than you are." She takes the soap and works on lathering me up. I can't help but grin.

My body, feeling a lot like lead, involuntarily leans itself against the bathroom wall. Mac's hands on me making this very nice on my already aching muscles. "Mmmm. . .right there." I say, as she massages my scalp with some orange smelling shampoo. Leaning against the wall, lathered in soap, I start to nod off, until I crack an eye open to find Mac lathering herself up. "Oooh."

Quickly, she washes the soap all off of her even the shampoo that she's managed to stick in her hair as well. Then, she moves the shower head so that the water hits me. "Harm, I know you don't feel well, but a little HELP would be wonderful." She says, her hands running at a frantic pace over my body as she tries to take the soap off. I try to help her, but finding that my hands aren't cooperating, I let her finish. "Okay, sailor, all done. . .Let's get you dried off and into something warm."

A few minutes later, I am lying in her bed, wearing a sweatshirt and pants, shivering like there is no tomorrow. "Ugh, I feel awful." I say in my best 'death is taking over me' voice, which is the only thing I could muster at the moment.

With a sympathetic smile, she takes the thermometer from my mouth and whistles. "If we can't lower this down, sailor, I'm afraid we're heading to Bethesda."

"Nooooooo!" I grumble out, my fear of doctors becoming even more so evident. "You love me, you wouldn't do that to me right?" I bat my eyes at her, suddenly feeling overly feminine.

Mac sits on the edge of the bed and takes one of my hands. "It's because I love you that I would take you there, Harm. . ." Thankfully, the puking has stopped. I hear a whistling through the apartment; no doubt the water for the tea is ready. She leans in and kisses my forehead. "I'm going to get you tea and some saltine crackers, we'll see if you can hold that down, okay?"

I glance up at her with my best puppy dog look and nod. "Thank you."

Smiling, she runs a soothing hand over my forehead then kisses my lips. "Hey, I owe you since you did such a good job taking care of me. . .I got warm and fuzzy feelings every time you stayed by my side." Mac kisses me one more time, and then heads off. Though I feel like crap, I understand Mac's warm and fuzzy feelings. I am feeling them too and no, it's not just the cooties. Suddenly, getting sick and feeling awful aren't so bad, especially when someone you love is there to take care of you.