Chapter One for Disclaimers. Next chapter tomorrow.
Thanks for reviewing and thanks to Snugglebug for her help and inspiration.
Mac slept uneasily that night. The bed was small and it made her back cramp up, but it was better than the cold sofa and there was something so right about sleeping with her little girls head on her chest. Still, she must have dozed off at some point because when she awoke it was to the smell of fresh coffee, the warmth of sunlight, and the sound of Harm's laugh.
"You want another smiley face pancake?" Harm asked DJ. He'd not slept but a couple of hours, but judging by the mood he was in, you'd think he'd slept all night long. He was bright-eyed and happy and seemed more at ease overall than he had in months.
DJ gave his father a toothy grin and patted his syrupy plate with his hand getting himself all sticky. "Can I have another one too, Daddy?" Lucy asked. "Or are those for Mommy?"
"There's plenty left for Mommy, sweetheart," he said as he carried the plate over to the table and served each child another pancake. He then took the syrup bottle and drew smiley faces on said pancakes for each of them.
Mac stumbled down the stairs as she heard the happy voices of her husband and children. She was exhausted and stiff from the night, not to mention she wasn't feeling all that well. Bleary eyed she arrived in the kitchen and gave a downtrodden, effortless "Morning," as she headed for the coffee pot.
"Hi," said Harm, not as sincerely as he once had but a lot more sincerely that he'd said anything since returning from his Hornet quals. "Want some pancakes?"
"Just one," Mac replied and sat down heavily with her coffee. "Oh, DJ, you're a mess!"
"Yeah, he is," agreed Harm as he set a plate in front of her. "I'll clean him up when he's done."
"I can do it," Mac said. "Did you eat?"
"Not yet," he said as he flipped another pancake on the griddle. "I will."
"Okay, just make sure. When's you Mom due in?" she asked him. She'd heard the phone earlier and was sure it was Trish.
"1100" he answered. "She can stay with the kids while we meet with the funeral director."
"Are you sure you're up to that?" Mac asked. "I could handle it if you'd rather not." He'd handled almost all of her father's arrangements.
"No, I'm okay with it," he said convincingly. "I know what she wanted, so I think it'd be best if I was there."
"Okay, whatever you want," Mac replied as she played with her pancake. "Oh crap!"
"What?" he asked, looking up from in front of the stove.
"I forgot my dress uniform. I packed yours in with my stuff, but I don't have mine," she sighed.
"Mommy should just wear a pretty dress, right Daddy?" Lucy spoke up as she sipped her juice.
"I think Mommy should wear the prettiest dress she can find," he said, answering his daughter while looking down at the griddle. Thoughts of the impending divorce still weighed heavily on him, and he couldn't bring himself to look at Mac as he replied to Lucy's query.
"The only one I have that's suitable doesn't fit," Mac sighed. "I'm going to take a shower." She'd only eaten half of her pancake.
"We can go shopping after we meet with the director," he said, noticing her half-full plate. "You didn't eat much."
"I'm full," she replied. "It was good though."
"Thanks," he replied, disappointed that she hadn't eaten more than she had. He knew she was still upset with him over everything between them, but at least they were managing to make platonic conversation.
"Harm?" Mac asked as she was going out of the kitchen. "Where did the medicine bag end up?"
"Somewhere in your suitcase I hope," he replied, taking a bite of his pancakes. "I don't have it. Why, what do you need?"
"Not much, shampoo, my razor, meds, and a toothbrush," she listed. "Just the bare essentials."
"Meds? You feeling bad?" he asked, the same worry as always beginning to rise within him, though he didn't want to let it show.
"Not great," she replied. "But it's more precautionary. I don't want to end up laid out later when things are busy here."
He nodded, hoping she was telling the truth. "That's probably a good idea. Go ahead and get cleaned up; I'll take care of them."
"You don't have to," Mac told him. "I can or I can do the dishes. DJ, No!" Mac scolded as their son lifted his plate and placed it on his head.
"I'll throw them in the tub down stairs," he said. "You can do the dishes. Deal?"
"Given that last trick," Mac smiled a bit. "Deal."
Frank arrived ahead of Trish having come from New York so Harm and Mac headed out for the funeral home. They road into town in silence, waited in silence, and Mac sat in silence as she listened to Harm select hymns, readings, viewing times, flowers, right down to the kind of lining in the casket. He did it without a thought almost, and without a flicker of emotion. When it was over and they were ready to head to town to buy her a dress she reached for his hand.
He felt her fingers on his, and began to pull away as something in his heart told him to stay still. He didn't pull away, but he didn't make any effort to take hold of her hand, either. If she wanted to be that close to him, he could handle it for now, but he didn't have it in him to return her actions.
"I need to buy a dress," she said as if he didn't know that.
"Mm-hmm," he answered. "Where should we go?"
"You know this place better than I do. I just need something simple and navy blue. I have my black dress but it's too big. I hope maybe you're Mom can fix it."
"What's wrong with it?" he asked. "Too long?"
"Too wide," she replied.
"Too wide?" he asked as he looked over at her. With the obvious exception of her pregnancies, Mac had been the same size since the day he met her. Now that he was really looking, though, she did appear thinner than usual. "Have you lost weight?"
"A little I guess," she answered, her hand still holding onto his. "I haven't been very hungry lately."
"That's not good," he said, trying not to sound as upset as he was. "You didn't need to lose any weight, and you sure don't need to keep losing."
"I know," she answered with a sigh. "I guess I need to make myself eat even when I'm not hungry."
"I think you do," he agreed as they reached the car. "Let's go to Avery's and see what they've got for dresses, then we'll go back to the house and I'll fix us something good for lunch."
Mac didn't know what to make of the "new Harm." He was the spitting image of the "old Harm", the "pre-Mexico Harm", the one she missed like crazy, and the one…she loved being married to. "Uh, okay," she said, still unsure of how long they could hope to keep up the pleasantries before something set one of them off.
The trip to Avery's proved successful. Mac found a long, cotton, navy blue dress with a matching brocade jacket. Having only brought nylons and shoes to go with her black dress, she also picked up another pair of each in navy blue before they checked out and headed for the farm house.
They pulled up to the house and found Trish on the front porch, DJ sleeping in his stroller as she rocked it back and forth. When she saw Harm and Mac walking towards her she ceased the motion and went quickly to meet them. "Harm!" she called and rushed to her son. "Where have you been?"
"We had to buy Mac a dress for the funeral," he said. "Why? What happened?"
"Nothing I was just worried about you," Trish replied reaching up to give Harm a hug. "How are you doing, Honey?"
"I've been better," he admitted. "But I'm hanging in there I guess. Have you all had lunch yet? Surely you have."
"Yes, I fed the children. Lucy and Frank are watching a video and DJ is napping. Did you two eat?" Trish looked over at Mac and tried to hide her shock at her appearance. She hadn't seen her daughter in law in six months and she had changed quite a bit. She leaned forward to hug Mac, "How are you doing Mac? Feeling okay?"
"I'm tired," replied Mac. "But I'm doing okay."
"That's good to hear," Trish smiled. "Well, I better get back to the little one. He needed that nap but he fought me every step."
"Hmm, that's strange," said Harm. "That kid loves to sleep."
"Not today," Trish sighed and started back to the house. Mac reached for Harm's hand again.
He accepted her hand once again, looking at her this time and whispering "for my mom." He knew he had best get good at keeping up appearances for the next 48 hours or he'd have a hell of a lot of questions to answer; questions he didn't feel like going anywhere near.
Mac nodded and leaned towards him just a bit. "You promised me lunch, Sailor," she said even though she wanted to do anything but eat.
"Let's go see what's in the pantry," he said, his heart aching at the mention of her most often used pet name for him.
They walked inside hand in hand then he sat her down and ran down a list of what was in Grams' pantry. Mac decided on tuna salad but once it was made, she more moved it than ate it.
Harm tapped his fingers on the table in front of her. "Eat up," he said. "You need your strength right now."
"I'm just not hungry," she sighed.
"Try to get it down anyway," he said, trying to keep his tone just concerned enough to get through to her. "You're going to waste away to nothing."
Mac did pick up the fork and managed to force down more than half of the tuna salad. She didn't know what was wrong with her...It wasn't the condition or maybe it was, she didn't know anymore. More likely it was the medication but still the more she ate the sicker she felt.
He could see that she wasn't doing well, and he wished with all his heart that they were in a place emotionally that they could talk about whatever was wrong. He knew that wasn't the case, though, and he knew that if they even tried to talk and things got ugly, it would make an already difficult weekend so much worse. He wondered if she'd done as he'd asked in his note on Wednesday morning and had Bud or Sturgis begin drawing up divorce papers. Part of him figured she had and that's what was eating away at her. Part of him thought maybe she hadn't, and that she was afraid he'd be upset when he found out. He couldn't ask about any of that, though. Not here, not now.
"Harm!" Trish called from the other room just then. "Can you come here?"
He rose from the table and went to answer her.
"You see," Trish crooned to DJ who was squirming. "There's Daddy." To her son, "Sit down here with me, Honey."
Harm took a seat beside his mother on the sofa, and reached out to take his son.
"Did you and Mac finish the details? When's the first viewing?" Trish asked playing with her grandson's shoe.
"Tomorrow," he answered. "From 1300 to 1700, then again from 1900 to 2200."
"Any of your friends coming?" Trish asked. "Or did you want to keep it private?"
"Grams never wanted a big production," he said. "I called Bud and let him know what happened, and asked him to let anyone know who might be interested, but I don't know if anyone will come from DC."
"I'm sure some of them will come," Trish smiled. "Harm...what's wrong with Mac?" Trish asked her son. "She looks awful."
"She's been kind of overwhelmed lately," he replied, keeping his answer generic.
"She's skin and bones," Trish said with shock in her voice.
"No, mom," he said with a sigh. "She's lost a couple pounds maybe, but she's fine."
"She doesn't look fine. You see her all the time, you might not notice, but her clothes..." Trish shook her head.
"I know she's a little thinner than when you saw her last," he said. "But she's okay, honest. She's had a lot going on lately and she hasn't eaten enough. Once we get past...everything, her appetite will pick back up. Always does."
"I hope so," Trish sighed. "Well, I'll leave you to go to your wife. I'm sure you need her very much right now."
He took a moment to respond. "Yeah." He knew his mom was totally unaware of the demolition of his marriage, and now was clearly not the time to share that sad news with her.
"Daddy!" Lucy called out from the kitchen where she'd just gone to see her mother.
He rose from the couch, carrying DJ into the kitchen with him. "What, baby?" he asked Lucy.
"I want some tuna and Mommy..." She pointed at Mac who'd dozed off on her hand.
Harm smiled a bitter-sweet smile. Mac had always been beautiful to look at while she slept, but now there was a certain pain that seemed to overtake part of that beauty; a pain he had caused. Setting DJ down in a chair, he walked around to where Mac sat and gently touched her back. "Hey, wake up," he said softly so as not to startle her.
No such luck, she sat up like a rocket. "What!" she gasped breathing hard.
"Nothing, nothing," he said. "Calm down, you just fell asleep is all. Go lay in the bed for a few hours."
"No, I have to...maybe you're right," she said as she yawned. "Wake me for supper?"
"I will," he said, taking her tuna salad plate and sliding it over in front of Lucy. "Here you go, Button."
Mac slept while Lucy snacked. Later Harm and Trish made a lasagna, which to their delight Mac ate a good portion of. After supper the family discussed the finer points of the service until it was time to head in to bed. For Trish's sake, Harm and Mac found themselves hot bunking in Grams' old room.
Mac went in first, having showered and now lay waiting for Harm. He'd been good today, different, less sullen and she hoped they'd talk a bit.
Harm finished his shower and his bedtime ritual about 15 minutes later, and joined Mac in the bed. He laid flat on his back at first, afraid to look at her for fear one of them would say the wrong thing. He should have known it wouldn't work.
"Harm?" said Mac reluctantly. "Can we talk, please?"
"I'm not sure that'd be a good idea," he replied, his gaze unmoving.
"I think we can keep the assaults to a minimum," she said genuinely. "I…we can't go through the next two days and not talk. I know you don't want your mom or Frank or anyone else to figure out that things aren't good between us, but if we don't talk some of this out that's exactly what's going to happen."
He turned to face her cautiously. "Okay. What do you want to talk about?"
"How about this? What's happened?" Mac suggested. "Let's try and leave the other issues for a later time."
He sighed. "I don't have much to say about this, really," he said. "I lost my grandmother. I'm sad. It hurts. Not much more to it."
"But how are you dealing with it?" Mac asked. "You seemed kind of up today. I guess I want to make sure you are actually dealing with it."
"I'm dealing with it," he said. "It doesn't seem real yet, though. I'm sure tomorrow will change that." He was dreading the viewing, and even more so the actual funeral and internment which was scheduled for Monday morning.
"It might not seem real until after," Mac said. "It didn't with Dad and I was there when he died. Harm..." She wanted to tell him she was there, to lean on her, but she was scared of his reaction.
"I don't have anything more to say about it," he said flatly. "If you want the details of the innermost workings of my heart right now, I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed."
"I just want you to know I'm here, that's all," she said softly. "I don't want you to cry alone like you did yesterday. When you're ready, I am here."
"But you can't be here," he said plainly, meaning that people in the midst of impending divorce can't be there for each other. He knew she'd understand his implication.
"Yes I can," she countered as she reached out to touch his arm just slightly.
He willed himself to look her in the eye, not pulling away from her touch but, as befoe, not reciprocating it. "No, you can't. Those days are over."
"No they aren't," Mac corrected. "I never said that."
"I guess I must have misinterpreted what you meant when you said you 'don't even like' the person I've become." His tone was still level, but the possibility of things spinning out of control was definitely there.
"Well I don't," Mac replied. "You're moody, withdrawn, spiteful, and petty more times than you aren't...but the times when you aren't you over compensate," Mac told him, trying to keep the tone even.
"No, I don't," he said. "Discounting the stuff we're not discussing right now, how have I over compensated?"
"Like last weekend," Mac replied. "Things were pretty sour between us then but you...the knight in shining armor. Not that I didn't love every minute of it...I love those times even though I'm sick because those are the times I know you still..." Her voice caught and she stopped.
He knew what she was going to say. "Still love you," he said. He did still love her, he loved her so much more than she could possibly hope to know. That's what made everything between them so much harder, and it's what made the knowledge that he'd have to deal with their divorce in the coming weeks all the more sickening.
She nodded her head then. "Things are so bad now...I want to do so many things say so many things to you but I can't because you're not really here. I saw some of the old Harm today, but he's gone now and Mr. Hyde has returned in his place."
"No, he hasn't," said Harm. "I did what I had to today to get through what had to be done. I'm not happy, I'm not okay and I'm not handling any of this very well. You know that; you've known me plenty long enough to know that I can fake my way through a lot of things like this. I can't handle my mom or Frank figuring out that things are bad between us right now, so for everyone's sake I'm doing the best I can to paste a smile on when it's warranted and keep my feelings under control. Being here doesn't change what's going on between us, Mac. We're just setting aside one hardship to deal with another."
Mac softened again at his admission. "I do know you. I know that you're hurting and you could use some comfort. And I want to give it to you, please let me do that," she softly requested.
He shook his head. "No."
"Please?" she asked again. "Just for the night."
Again, he shook his head.
"Have it your way," she sighed and rolled on her side. "What time do we have to get up?"
"By 0900," he said. "I want to make sure everything is set for the viewing in plenty of time."
"I got a phone call earlier. The Admiral, General and Mrs. Cresswell, Bud, Mic, and the SecNav are all arriving at 1130," Mac told him.
"That's nice," he said sincerely, his eyes once again staring up at the ceiling.
"I thought so. Also, I don't want to take the kids to the viewing," Mac said.
"I don't either," he said. "But what choice do we have?"
"Mic could watch them," she suggested. "They like him. The second half the Admiral can stay with them."
Harm cringed at the thought of Mic baby-sitting his children, but given the circumstances he didn't see any better alternatives. "If they're willing, okay."
"I think they need to go to the funeral though," Mac continued. "At least Lucy needs to say goodbye. DJ doesn't understand."
Harm sighed. "It won't be a long service," he said. "I think they'll do okay, and if not maybe we could have someone they know and like on stand-by to take them out of the funeral home. It wouldn't exactly do for you or I to get up and leave."
"You know if Lucy freaks she's going to want you," Mac told him.
"I know," he said softly. "I guess we'll deal with whatever happens."
"I'm getting pretty tired," Mac said then. "Goodnight."
"'Night," he said, rolling over to face the wall beside the bed. Tomorrow was going to be a very long day.
And it was. The group from DC arrived precisely on time and Mic and the Admiral were more than happy to take the shifts with the kids. When they went into the viewing room Harm held onto Mac. She began to cry when she saw Grams and he cuddled her as much for comfort as for appearances.
Somehow he made it through both viewing sessions and countless inane conversations without shedding a tear. He even made it through Lucy and DJ's pictures that the Admiral had them draw for Grams. He wasn't sure how he did that, for the pain was unbearable.
Mac took the kids up to bed while Harm and Trish talked over coffee. Well Trish had coffee, Harm had whiskey and coffee. Strong whiskey, to dull his pain.
Mac went to bed near midnight, and Harm promised to come up soon. But when Mac awoke with pain in her back and reached out to him as she always did she found he'd still not joined her.
Carefully Mac went downstairs. She could hear noise down there, a familiar one too, of glass shaking against glass. She went to the kitchen and saw Harm drinking the amber liquid in shots. Slowly she approached and took the bottle from him. "Enough."
"Get lost," he said, reaching for the bottle.
She moved it back out of his reach. "No," she said firmly. "Come on come to bed this isn't helping anything."
"Only because you took it away from me!" he said.
"Ssh," she hushed him. "The children are sleeping. Now come on, you've had enough."
"Have not," he said. "And who are you to tell me what to do? Like you've never had a drink after a bad day?"
"No, I have," she agreed. "And it ruined my life, years were wasted. You don't need this, Harm. You have me and your family, and we care for you so much. Come on," she urged.
Realizing that she wasn't going to give the bottle back, he slowly rose from his chair and walked towards the stairs as Mac followed behind him.
"Straight to the bed, Sailor," she urged. "You just sit and let me take care of you, okay?"
"I can take care of myself," he spat.
"Not like this you can't," Mac replied. "You can't even walk straight. Left turn."
"Stop telling me what to do!" he said angrily, the alcohol bringing his lesser-liked qualities to the forefront.
"Ssh," Mac hissed. "Do you want to wake the children? It took me forever to get them to sleep."
Mumbling a couple choice words under his breath, Harm walked the remainder of the way to Grams' old room in silence, flopping down onto the bed as soon as he reached it.
"Shoes off," Mac said as she began to undo the laces on his shoes.
He didn't fight her on it; figuring if she wanted to take his shoes off, let her do it.
Once both of his shoes were off, Mac took on of his feet and removed the sock. Once his foot was bare she started to rub it gently.
"Don't," he whined as the effects of the shots really hit him. "Wanna go to sleep..."
"Not yet," Mac said laying his foot down on the bed. "You have a lot of drinking to do, Mister. Take off the rest of your clothes and I'll be right back."
"Drink," he mumbled. "First ya tell me no, now ya tell me yes. Make up your mind."
"Water," she told him. "Lots of it or you won't be able to function tomorrow. And the egg and tomato juice right behind it. We have to get the alcohol out of your system," she said in a very business like tone. Harm had only been drunk a few times but each time he was...he was a lousy drunk, emotional and unpredictable just look at...the last time.
"Maybe I don't feel like functioning tomorrow," he said as he tried to get his pants off. He was drunk, no doubt about that, but he was certainly coherent enough to be angry with Mac for trying to help him. He'd been drinking to forget what tomorrow held in store, and she didn't seem to understand that - either that, or she understood and didn't care.
"I know you don't but you've got to," Mac told him firmly. "If for no one else than..than Grams."
He thought for a moment about what Grams would say to him if she could see him right then; see him drunk and in pain. He knew she'd tolerate it even less than Mac was, and she'd be even more disappointed in him than he was in himself. With a sigh, he half-heartedly began to unbutton his shirt.
"I'll be back in a minute," Mac told him. "Don't leave this room I don't want our children seeing you like this."
"Yeah, yeah..." he muttered, throwing his shirt across the room and flopping backwards onto his pillow.
Mac was seething as she went down the steps to get a huge half gallon bottle of water and some aspirin. How could he do this? On the eve of his grandmother's funeral. Sarah Rabb had never drunk, had never condoned it, and would surely thrash Harm's bottom for it. Mac wanted to do that...She hated him drunk...She hated seeing anyone she loved in enough pain to be drunk like that, but he was...in pain that is, pain she caused. She only hoped her anger at him for his actions would stay checked so she didn't make things worse, now that that was too likely.
"I'm supposed to drink all that?" he asked as she returned to the bedroom. "Shit, I'll be up all night."
"This is only stage one," Mac began. "Drink up. And take these." She handed him four pills, two were Tylenol, and he wasn't sure what the other two were.
He popped the pills and took a big swig of water. "What're you doping me up with?" he asked, his eyes showing every sign of the alcohol in his system and the pain in his heart.
"Aspirin and vitamin C," Mac replied. "That will keep you from passing out once I give you the next course of treatment," she told him. "You will be a respectable looking officer, grandson, father and husband tomorrow, one way or the other."
"Whatever" he said, his voice one of a very sad, tired man. "Can we skip all this crap and just go to sleep?"
"No," Mac insisted. "You're being drunk has always been good for one thing and while I rid you of that poison...we're going to talk."
"Not in a talking mood, Mac" he warned as she pointed to the water bottle and insisted he take another swallow. "I'm not in the mood to guzzle the freaking Atlantic Ocean either!"
"No, you've all ready tried that," Mac sighed. "Its either that and the egg remedy or I get your Mom and you know what she's going to give you," Mac threatened. "Drink."
He rolled his eyes and tried to raise the bottle to his lips again, but his shaky hands made the task almost impossible. "Get me a smaller bottle, would you?" he spat.
"Nope, let me help you," Mac said and took the large bottle and helped him raise it to his lips. "Small sips." She ordered when he started to choke on the water.
"Now I remember why I hate getting drunk around you," he coughed.
"No, you just like getting drunk with strangers," Mac said softly. She needed to say that, but she prayed her didn't hear her.
Of course, he did. "Like hell I do!" he replied.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, tipping the bottle again.
He pushed it away. "I know exactly what you're talking about, and you know damn good and well I did not set out to get drunk with her! Besides, she's not a stranger."
"Drink that water," she said and tipped the bottle to his lips again, choosing the ignore his comment about Annie.
He snatched the bottle from her hands. "I can do it myself!" His hands were still too shaky, though, and the water ended up all over Mac's clothes, soaking her from top to bottom.
Mac slid back off the bed, the cold water soaking through her. "Damn it!" she swore. "Look what you've done."
"Well if the damn bottle wasn't so big!" he spat.
"If you weren't so drunk..." She returned as they heard a loud, harsh "Daddy!" from Lucy's room.
At the sound of his daughter's call, he cast the half-empty bottle aside and began to stand up. "Coming, Lucy," he said, too softly for the child to hear him.
"You're not going near her like this," Mac ordered. "Our children will not be subjected to this." This as it came again, "Daddy! Daddy!"
"She wants me and I'm going to her!" he said, trying to walk around Mac as she blocked his exit.
Mac stood fast and pushed at him to keep him back. "You will not...subject our daughter to this," she said deathly quiet. "You want to you'll have to get through me. I will not have her living my life." She called to Lucy, "Mommy's coming, Honey." Lucy continued to scream though, "Daddy!" in her sleep.
"She wants me, damn it!" he said, still trying to walk around her. "She probably wants to be held, something you can't do!"
"I can most certainly hold my daughter," Mac shot back. "Why can't I? What's that supposed to mean?"
Lucy's cries had stopped then, large footsteps having passed their room. They knew who'd gone to her, AJ. And soon he'd be here to lay them out.
"Oh, I don't know," he said harshly. "Maybe that I never know what the hell you are and aren't capable of doing anymore! Heaven forbid we catch you on the wrong day of the month!"
"You son of a bitch," Mac hissed. "You know how much I hate that. You know how much I suffer because of this and...How dare you say something..."
"You're not the only one who suffers with that, Mac!" he said in a tone he very seldom used on anyone he didn't purely detest. He was hurting so badly that night. The alcohol made a difficult situation worse, but even without it the pain and the fear of Grams' funeral and burial combined with the divorce would have pushed him to the edge.
"No, I'm just the one who can't move five days a month sometimes more. I'm the one who can't tend her kids, or her husband's needs. I'm the one who can't have anymore babies," she counted off. "I'm the one who is so sick to her stomach that I can't even eat and you dare use that as a weapon."
Before Harm could think of a reply, AJ appeared at the door with a very pissed off expression on his face.
"Attention!" he said, his tone indicative of his disgust.
On autopilot Harm and Mac both snapped to attention and faced their red faced former CO and friend.
He stepped into the bedroom and stood within inches of them, his eyes wide with anger and disbelief. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked. "Your daughter is down there crying for her father and I come up here and find you two in the middle of some damn pissing contest! Commander, explain!"
"She wouldn't let me go, Sir," Harm explained the alcohol on his breath quite potent.
AJ glared at him. "You're drunk. Are you out of your ever loving mind?"
"Sir," Mac tried to cover. "Its my fault. I..."
"Quiet, Colonel" said their former CO, not moving his eyes off of Harm. "I believe the Commander has some more explaining to do, such as why he said the things he said to you, because I for one and just dying to hear his justification for throwing his wife's illness in her face!"
"That's what she does to me, all fair in love and war, such as it is," Harm replied his tone cynical. He even had the alcohol induced nerve to smirk.
"Son, you best wipe that smirk off your face and you best do it now" instructed AJ. "I don't know what's going on with you two, and right now I don't much care, but you've got a very important day ahead of you in less then 10 hours, and I suggest you both find a way to get past your problems before then!"
"We will, Sir," Mac said. "How is she?"
"She's fine now" he said, his tone easing up a little. "She had a night mare about you two and Grams' something about you both leaving and going to Heaven with Grams. I got her a glass of water and tucked her back in, so she should be okay the rest of the night, but you two...hell, who knows..."
"I'll fix him up," Mac told him. "He just needs to get the liquor out of his system. Then he'll be human." She shot a glare at him.
Harm simply rolled his eyes and looked away. He wasn't himself that night; not by any stretch of the imagination.
"I sure hope so," said AJ as he walked out of the room. He was very worried about the couple whom he'd come to love as his children. He didn't know what was wrong and, worse, didn't know how to fix it.
"Since when is it up to you to 'fix me'? Huh?" he hissed once they were alone again.
"Since I'm your wife," she replied. "I don't even know why I'm bothering though. You're a lousy drunk, a mean spiteful one too, and any remorse I had about what I said the other night. Gone. You hear me. I was beginning to think I didn't mean it, well I did," she hissed. "Every word."