Disclaimer: Don't own'em
A/N: All done! But this part is nice and long. Thank you for staying with this story, and thank you especially for reviewing. I suspect I enjoy reading your words a lot more than you do mine.
--
Harm steered the car down the winding country roads, past the red barn that marked the 25 minute mark. They were almost at Gram's and the silence in the car was choking him.
For the umpteenth time, he bit back a sigh. It still tore his heart in two to remember how Mac had looked when he'd first gone to her apartment last night. Tear trails on her face, sad even in her sleep. It had almost brought him to his knees.
He'd had no idea she'd reacted so strongly to his decision to resign. She hadn't said anything to him, and that had hurt. And then, when she had started talking to him both before and after he'd thrust himself beyond the point of reason and – of all things, he didn't know if he could forgive himself this – had actually starting packing his stuff to leave her ... when she'd spoken then, it had added a whole new level to what it meant to hurt.
She had been brutally honest with him. He hadn't known she felt that way, he couldn't wrap his mind around it. Although he could understand that her difficult childhood, neglectful parents would lead her to believe such a thing.
He promised himself, made a vow, that he would not leave her, not like that, in the middle of an argument with both their tempers flying high. He kept repeating Gram's nugget of wisdom to himself: that kind of hurt doesn't go away without a lot of love.
Right now, though, he wasn't quite sure how to bridge the gap that had formed between them last night. He guessed she was still embarrassed by her behaviour, just as he was by his.
They'd both been a little tentative around the other in the morning, and they still were being so. The aftertaste of their fight glaring in the unforgiving light of day; things said in darkness seeping into the sunlight. It was like they didn't know how to be around each other, how to handle the depth of her hurt and his anger.
Harm bit back yet another sigh. How could he prove to her that she deserved every happiness in the world, and he was the one who could give her that?
--
Mac stared out the window, trying to think of something to say to somehow break the silence they seemed to be sinking into since the morning. But her thoughts kept drifting from what to say to ... other things. Like baby Sarah. Mac had visited her namesake quite a bit in the last month. She thought Harriet and Bud very brave to bring a life into the world. It was such a big responsibility. And between her and Harm, both with their ... issues, she wondered if they were suited for this kind of thing.
She bit back a sigh. Harm was obviously equally besotted by Sarah. The fourth Sarah he knew, and the only one he called princess. Mac thought it all very endearing. But being head over heels for your goddaughter was quite different from birthing a baby and raising a child and somehow making sure the world didn't eat the kid up whole and spit the poor thing back out in some unrecognizable, hardened form.
Mac shook herself out of her thoughts. This much introspection could not be healthy. She should talk to Harm, she knew. She just wasn't sure how to.
"Mac," He said suddenly. She turned to look at him. "You said you were terrified of the marriage thing. That's still the case, isn't it?"
Of all the questions to ask her...
Mac twisted her hands in her lap. She thought she was on her way to moving beyond that, but the last 24 hours just slammed it all back into focus. "I don't know what it is, Harm. I know it's not ... sensible. But I can't help it."
"Sure you can," He countered immediately. "You're letting your insecurities get the best of you. You keep worrying about how things will go wrong, and you're not seeing how right everything is going."
She stared out the window, unseeing. How could she explain it when she didn't understand it?
"I wouldn't smother you." He said.
"What?" She looked at him in surprise. "I know that."
"I wouldn't force you to do anything you didn't want to."
"Harm!" She exclaimed, well on her way to appalled. She couldn't even put Harm and such an idea in the same thought. "Stop it. I know you wouldn't."
He said nothing. Mac closed her eyes, and leaned back against the headrest, counting seconds and listening to the silence.
"I know what's worrying you," He said quietly.
Mac opened her eyes to look at him.
"You don't trust me to stick around for you." He wasn't looking at her. She watched his grip tighten around the steering wheel. "I thought we'd talked about this."
They did talk about it. He'd promised he wouldn't leave, and then he'd resigned his commission without telling her about it. She didn't trust herself to speak, so she said nothing.
The seconds ticked by, and Mac realized he was waiting for her to say something. "I guess one talk wasn't enough," She put in a concerted effort to keep her tone even.
"Mac," He started, and then stopped. Then said, "I'm sorry. About last night. I shouldn't have—"
"Harm—" She interrupted. She wasn't looking for an apology. They'd done that already.
"Mac, wait." He put his hand over hers, holding it tightly. "Just let me say this. We need to talk about it."
She nodded, and kept her silence, even though she'd rather just open the car door, tuck and roll.
"I shouldn't have tried to leave like that." He told her, eyes moving from the road to her, and back. "And I should have talked to you about Sergei. I wasn't thinking straight, and I'm sorry for that. You asked me what you could do to make this last: you can trust me. It's all I ask. But it also works both ways. I mean, you're right: marriage is more than just a promise of a life together. It should be more. So I promise to talk with you, that we'll make the big decisions together. I guess I'm just not used to doing that. It's no excuse, Mac, and it won't happen again."
She stared at him, surprised by his words, humbled by his ... maturity. He really had grown in the past year. She remembered the conversation they had in La Jolla, where he'd said he wanted to be good for her. He kept amazing her. "Harm..."
"I'll work on that," He continued, cutting in gently, "And you work on trusting that we have something strong here, between us. And, Mac," He looked at her, making sure he had her attention. "Please don't forget that Gram, Mom and Frank are your family, too. That's part of the deal."
Mac stared at him; she really had to start getting used to this – all these people, strangers to her at the turn of the year who were now calling her family. And she was overwhelmed by Harm's response to what she knew were her mostly irrational fears. She couldn't quite process it, couldn't fight the feeling that this was more than she was worth, that they'd look at her one day and uncover her for a fraud.
"You'll have to deal with Gram stuffing you to the gills and giving lectures," He grinned, obviously trying to lighten the mood, "With Mom prying into your personal life, and with Frank giving you stock tips."
"It sounds like a good deal to me," She could only smile at the picture he painted, knowing they all acted that way out of love. Maybe that was the hardest part for her to grasp.
"I am working at being more open with you," She told him, looking out the window. "It's just not easy."
"A wise woman once told me the good things in life have to be earned."
"Gram?" Mac asked, mulling over the truth of that. The things worth having, she'd had to work for. Why should she see this as any different? In fact, approaching this as a mission seemed the most comforting way to do it.
"Mom, actually. Gram threatened to come after me with her rolling pin if I didn't do right by you."
Mac laughed heartily, "Oh, I can just picture that! She could take you, too."
"I don't doubt it," He agreed.
They held hands, again lapsing into silence, while Mac gave Harm's earlier question some thought. It was about time she did. She could face anything, she thought, if she set her mind to it. Why not this.
"I like the idea of a beach wedding," She said to him. "Do you want to do it in La Jolla, or find a beach around here? Virginia? We could aim for early June. Or mid-May even."
He started, looking at her with wide eyes, his smile lit up the car. He was visibly excited. "You're ready to pick dates? You want a beach wedding, too?!"
His reaction made Mac feel terrible for putting all this off for so long, for doubting the entire thing, that Harm wanted it, that she could have it. But instead of dwelling on that now, she nodded, smiling in response to his excitement.
"Great!" He enthused, "La Jolla is far, though, and we'd want Harriet and Bud there, right?"
Mac nodded again, "The admiral, and Chloe, too. It would be easier for her to fly here, than to California."
"What was Chloe's reaction when you told her?" Harm glanced at her, grinning. "I would've paid money to be a fly on that wall." He laughed. "Then again, she'll probably launch into an instant replay when she comes to visit."
Mac looked away. "I haven't ... I mean, I—"
"You didn't tell her?" All his previous good humour fled. He let go of her hand, returning both of his to the steering wheel.
How could she explain that she just couldn't bring herself to do it? Chloe would've been incredibly excited, and added to the buzz of near-euphoria that Harriet and the admiral, hell the entire JAG office was projecting – except Singer, admittedly –, Mac had felt wholly inadequate. And she hadn't been able to say it out loud. She hadn't even opened the letter Uncle Matt had sent her in reply to the one she'd posted announcing their engagement.
"I'll call her from Gram's." She offered.
He didn't say anything, and his silence made her feel steadily worse about how she'd been handling this whole thing.
"I'm sorry, Harm."
"Please stop apologizing." He said tersely, his tone full of hurt.
"You know it isn't because of you." She sighed. "I think that if it had been anyone other than you, it might have been easier to pretend this was all easy, and I was ... excited."
"How the hell does that equate to it having nothing to do with me?" He protested, his anger rising.
"You aren't listening." She put a hand on his arm. "What I mean is that you are too important to me, for me to screw this up."
"Stop saying that. You won't screw up. I won't let you." He said stubbornly. "You can have all the doubts you want, Mac. Just talk to me instead of saying you'll screw it up, and we can work through them." He was getting quite worked up, she could tell. Right to the point where his mouth was getting ahead of the rest of him. "And you should know this now: it's a done deal as far as I'm concerned. If I have to tie you to the altar on our wedding day, I will. Because we are getting married." He declared.
Her initial reaction to his statement was amusement. The idea of Harm tying her to the altar ... She was quick to sober, however, at his deadly serious expression.
"It won't come to that, Harm." She forced herself to forge ahead. "I don't think I've wanted anything more than to marry you. That's ... that's what scares me." She tried to shrug off her discomfort. She had honestly never felt more vulnerable than she felt right now with Harm. Exposed and naked and other things she didn't allow herself to feel in front of anyone.
"I think I understand that. I'm trying to." He captured her hand and kissed her palm. His tone was soft when he spoke, his eyes filled with a familiar warmth, like summer sunshine. "Thank you for talking to me about it."
She felt tears well, and quickly blinked them back. Harriet was right: this was all way too emotional. She had to stop getting all teary-eyed.
"You're right, though," She said, ready to move this along. "We should start on planning the wedding."
"Alright," He gave her a smile that stemmed straight from his heart. "We can start making calls and figuring it all out we get back to DC," He said, her hand still resting against his lips. His eyes twinkled. "I can't wait, Mac."
--
Rabb Farm
That evening
2008 Local
Mac sat in the kitchen, waiting for Chloe to pick up the phone. And trying not to think of the conversation Harm was having with Gram at the moment right in the room next door.
"Hello?"
"Merry Christmas Eve, Chlo!" Mac exclaimed, the sound of Chloe's voice bringing an automatic smile to her face.
"Mac!" Chloe replied excitedly. "Hi!"
"How are you, kid? How is it spending Christmas with your dad?"
"It's great! He came in two days ago and he's on leave until the 3rd of January and we went horse riding in the snow and then we skated and Grandma made us hot chocolate and then she made dad chop wood and it's the best Christmas ever!"
Mac laughed at Chloe's exuberance. "Take a breath, Chloe!" She exclaimed, and then braced herself. "I called because I have some good news."
"Oh my god!" She squealed. "You're calling from outside the front door and you're going to surprise me for Christmas?!"
"Well, no." Mac said, shaking her head at Chloe's overactive imagination. "But that's a ... good guess. Actually," Mac paused, readying herself. "Harm and I are getting married."
The only response Mac got was a loud thud followed by a shrill scream.
"Chloe?" No response, but that shrill scream just went on and on.
Mac tried again: "Chloe, sweetie—" Mac stopped when she heard more thumping. "Chloe, what is going on?" She heard Chloe scrambling, and figured she must've dropped the phone.
"Mac!" She yelped into the receiver. "This is amazing! Wait until I tell everyone! I am so excited! How did he propose? It was skywriting, wasn't it! I bet he wrote it in the sky right outside your apartment! Oh my god, that is so romantic!" She was talking a mile-a-minute, but Mac had to laugh at the fanciful notions the kid was coming up with.
"Wait! No!" Chloe interrupted herself with overflowing glee, "I know! He brought a marching band with him to JAG and he had them play while he got on one knee in the middle of the bullpen! Or did he—"
"Chloe! Take a breath!" Mac ordered, laughing. She waited as Chloe did exactly that.
"Okay, I'm totally cool, I promise! Please tell me how he proposed," Chloe begged. "I knew you'd marry him! You guys were so into each other, I could tell!"
"Chloe," Mac warned.
"Okay, totally cool starting now." Chloe stated in a serious voice, and then followed up with a squeal, "Please tell me!"
Mac laughed. "Well, he had this giant cake delivered to JAG – it was almost as tall as me – and when the delivery guy put it in front of my office door, he popped out from inside the cake and asked me to marry him."
There was a very long, and very loud pause on the other end. It was all Mac could do not to burst into laughter picturing the look on Chloe's face.
"He popped out of ... a ... a cake?" She asked, her tone more quiet than Mac was used to hearing from her little sister.
Mac couldn't hold it in any longer. She laughed so hard her sides hurt and tears fell from her eyes. "Oh, Chloe, I can just picture the look on your face."
"So he didn't pop out of a cake?" She clarified, confused, which doubled up Mac's laughter.
"No, Sweetie, he just asked," She replied, wiping her eyes. "He had a very sweet speech."
"Oh," Chloe said, sounding mildly disappointed. Mac grinned. One day, this little girl would learn that love was so much more than grandiose acts. It was blinding light and glowing embers, an always unexpected surprise and an everyday wonder. It was, Mac realized, what she saw every time she looked at Harm, what she heard every time he spoke to her, what she felt every time they touched.
And she would be the greatest kind of fool to let her fears get in the way of something she knew no one deserved but everyone was worthy of. Even her. It was as simple and as complicated as that.
"Are you happy, Mac?" Chloe asked.
"I have never been happier, Chloe." She answered from the heart.
"Do you have a ring?!" Chloe suddenly said with renewed vigour. "Oh my god! I bet it's gorgeous! I bet he went to the deepest, darkest jungle and had to climb right to the bottom of a volcano to find hidden jewels! No! Wait! I bet he found it on the Titanic, in one of the safes onboard!"
Mac could only laugh.
--
At the same time...
"Gram," Harm began as he sat on the couch next to her. "I'm sorry about how I behaved over the phone with you."
"Harmon, you have nothing to apologize for."
They both sat silently for a long moment, staring into the steadily burning fire in the hearth. Harm thought of Mac, and how her not talking to him upset him no end. He decided to be the first to jump in here.
"I don't know how I feel about dad and ... I mean, Sergei's a really good guy."
"You've kept in touch with him?" She asked, surprised.
"Yeah," He nodded, "Weekly phone calls so I can keep tabs on him. He's in the army – I might have mentioned that – a helicopter pilot." He decided to leave out the part about Sergei being imprisoned.
"Will he be coming here, then?" Her voice was shaking, he could hear it even though he knew she was trying to hide it.
"I wanted him to, but he refused. Now he likely won't get the time to come – at least to visit – for a while because of his duties."
Gram nodded. "You said you don't know how to feel." She put her hand over his. "But what are you feeling?"
"Disappointment, mostly." Harm took a deep breath, and spoke through his discomfort. "And sadness. Sadness for what mom went through."
"Oh my darling boy," Her voice was full of love, "Are you thinking of your parents, or of you and Sarah?"
Harm shifted in his seat. Come on, Hammer, you can do this. "Both. I mean, I don't really know who dad was." He hadn't told his grandmother about Jenny Lake, nor was he about to. Based on what Ms. Lake and told him, and what he'd learned in Russia, he sensed his father had as much of a hero complex as Mac accused him of having. Thing is, he would not make a move on or shack up with a woman because of it. After all, Mac was not the hero-seeking kind and he was crazy about her beyond the point of distraction, beyond anything he could rationalize. What he'd told her was the full truth: he couldn't do this – life, living, being – without her.
"He wasn't perfect, Harm, but he was a decent person. He had a big heart, was idealistic, starry-eyed. You remind me of him."
Harm shut his eyes, and shook his head. He didn't want to hear that anymore.
"Harm, child, what is it." She rubbed her hand over his arm.
"I don't want to be like him, not in that way. I mean, I would not leave Mac behind ... I wouldn't forget about her. How could I?"
Gram pulled Harm into a tight hug, and he felt like a kid again. Which brought tears to his eyes, "I don't think he forgot about you."
She was pulling hairs, he thought. "Fine, then. I don't want to give up like he did. I wouldn't. I would come back." Or die trying.
"Let's hope no situation you are ever in comes to that," She comforted. "And your father was only in his twenties when his plane went down. You've matured more than your father had the time to in his relationship with your mother."
That was true, he thought, and it made him feel a little better. Hell, lots better. He may look like his dad, but it was up to him how he acted, what he did. He let himself enjoy his grandmother's embrace for a while, breathing in deeply, before biting the bullet. He pulled back and looked at her.
"And what are you feeling?"
She looked like she was about to clam up, so Harm took the dive hoping she wouldn't disown him for pushing.
"I shared with you, Gram." He pointed out.
She looked like she was about to ream him a new one, but then she sighed. After a moment, she said, "I know what your mother went through, what you went through, and the idea that he started a family there, and it might have been why he wasn't trying to come back," She sighed again. "It brings back a very difficult time in our lives."
Harm listened in silence, not knowing what to say.
"You know, Harm, your mother went through such a difficult time. And you – until Sarah," She pointed to the kitchen where they could hear Mac talking on the phone with Chloe, "You were ... always so tightly wound, focused. Even in your most carefree moments, a part of you was always coiled up. I hate that you had to go through that, and I know how big a part of you thought you had to find your father and bring him back. To hear that he..." She trailed off as she began to cry softly. "I am just upset over that. And I'm trying to forgive your father for it. For letting you down."
"I'm sorry, Gram. I'm okay, I promise. And Mom's okay." He soothed, drawing Gram into a hug. "Please don't be upset."
He'd never seen her cry before, and it was enough for his own tears to fall.
"I'm okay," He whispered again. "I promise. I'm not holding it against him."
"You are, Harm. I don't want you to, but I know you."
He didn't answer, and he didn't think she expected him to. They both knew he needed to give it time.
Gram collected herself, wiping her tears away. "Tell me about him, about Sergei."
Harm studied her, making sure she actually wanted to know. "He looks a bit like dad. His eyes, mostly. And his smile. Or at least, that's what Mac thinks about his smile."
"Mac has met him?" Her eyebrows inched up in surprise.
"She was in Russia when we met. So, yes."
"She's been with you through many things." A soft glow lit Gram's eyes, and Harm recognized it as affection for his marine.
Harm grinned, but then his conversation with Mac from the car caught up with him. He sighed, remembering his resolve to tie her to the altar. "And she'll be with me for many more to come, if I have a say."
"What do you mean?" She seemed worried.
Harm realized just how badly he needed to talk to someone, to Gram, about Mac's cold feet.
"Mac is ... I mean, she has..." He didn't know how to say this.
"What, Harm?"
"She has all these doubts ... about getting married."
Gram frowned. "That's normal, I would think."
He looked at her in shock, not expecting that. "What do you mean it's normal?" He was getting very offended at the thought. "How could it be normal?!" He hadn't given Mac reason to doubt.
"Not because of you, Harm." She placated, "I imagine her experience with marriage is limited, and mostly negative. She grew up in an abusive home with a alcoholic parent. Her mother left her at such an age. Think of your mom, Harm, and Frank and me. No matter what you could possibly do, you know we wouldn't love you any less, we would always be there for you."
He thought of his mom's unconditional faith in him during that first horrible fight with Mac. He thought of Frank's easy acceptance, forgiveness for his terrible behaviour during his younger years. He thought of how he'd come to Gram after his ramp strike, to recover from the loss of his dreams, how he'd grieved by being an ogre.
"She said as much," Harm conceded, "I mean, about not really believing marriage could be a good thing."
"Then it says a lot, doesn't it, that she's still so excited about marrying you, that she wants it so much?"
Harm looked at his grandmother. How would she know that Mac was excited? She'd practically repeated verbatim what Mac had told him on the drive over.
"I can see it in her eyes, Harm, even as she's afraid of it." Gram said gently, "And the fact that she positively glows whenever you smile at her."
Harm grinned. He did do that to her, he thought cockily. She had even said he was the best parts of her. The best parts of Sarah MacKenzie. Fiery, strong and smart, mischievous – when she let herself be herself –, gorgeous Sarah MacKenzie. His grin widened.
Gram laughed at his reaction. "It's normal she has doubts, Harm. But if I've learned anything about Sarah since I've met her: she would never let herself hurt you, and she is a fighter. It takes a special kind of strength to overcome oneself, I think."
Harm nodded, processing what Gram was telling him. "So, what can I do?"
"I think you're doing just fine. Just keep making her happy like you're doing." She gave Harm a warm look. "You make me very proud, child. I couldn't have asked for a better granddaughter if I'd picked her myself. You've grown into such a fine young man."
"Thank, Gram." He replied, returning her smile. "You know, she's the best friend I've ever had." He rubbed his hand behind his neck, sometimes still not able to believe his good fortune. "I don't think I knew what being happy meant until I met her."
"I know, dear." She caressed his face, her own lit with joy. "I think she feels the same way. But you have to give her room to grow into it."
That, Harm thought, was easier said than done. Then again, he was good for her, she'd told him so herself. He'd just have to make sure it stayed that way. He sighed. Which meant he would have to loosen his grip where Mac was concerned. It was terrifying, letting go of that control. But if that was what it took for her to see his faith in her, then he could do it. He could try.
Speaking of Mac...
"Let me get her," Harm said, a sudden good mood wrapping itself around him. He was doing things right, and there wasn't much more he could ask for. "And then we can make S'mores on the fireplace."
Gram laughed. "Like when you were a boy."
Harm nodded, grinning. "This is going to be a great Christmas, Gram. We'll make it the best one we've had in years," He promised. "For all of us."
He kissed his grandmother on the cheek and headed to the kitchen. Mac was seated at the table, staring into space, a soft smile on her face. His good mood increased by about seven notches.
"Hey, beautiful," He pulled her out of her chair and spun her around. She laughed with uninhibited happiness, her arms looping around his neck. She studied him as they danced.
"You had a good talk?" She asked, her fingers softly tracing his features.
"Great talk," He replied, grinning. "How was the chat with Chloe?" He asked, dipping her and pulling her back flush against him. She giggled in surprise.
"Great," She got that dreamy look on her face again as she stared into his eyes. His good mood went upon another sixteen notches. And then he saw the spark of humour dancing in their brown depths. "She's now telling her grandparents and her dad that you traveled to the deepest, darkest jungle to find a diamond that matched my worth, and then proposed in JAG with a marching band."
Harm laughed heartily. How very Chloe. He watched Mac as they danced, her smile lighting all the dark corners. Not that he could see as many as he used to since she came into his life.
"There's no jungle deep enough or dark enough I wouldn't travel through for you." He kissed her forehead, his words whispered against her skin, "No jewel I could ever find that is worthy of you." He looked her in the eye. "I love you, French fry."
She tightened her hold on him, fingers weaving through his hair. "I love you, Harm," She sighed, swaying in rhythm with his body, resting her forehead against his. "I can't wait to marry you," She whispered.
It was the first time she'd said it with such meaning since the morning after he'd proposed. He was pretty sure his heart was floating somewhere along the rings of Saturn. He didn't even have words to say what he was feeling. So he just held her, and they danced to their own improvised tune.
"Thank you, Harm." She whispered. "This is the best Christmas yet."
"You think that now," He grinned. "Wait until we make S'mores over the fireplace and decorate the tree. Gram even made you your very own ornament."
Mac's face transformed into a mask of surprise as she looked up at him. "I get my own ornament?"
"Yep, everyone in the family does. Mine's a Tomcat. Had it since I was four." Harm was barely able to wait until she actually saw hers. Gram had made her a hanging angel, her robes painted in marine green camouflage print, holding a giant cookie.
"And we have to hang up your stocking," He informed her. Mac looked slightly overwhelmed, so he added. "I meant it Mac, about my family being yours. The good and the bad, for better or worse." He leaned down and kissed that overwhelmed look right off her face. She was right about one thing: this was the best Christmas yet.
"C'mon, French fry." With a final kiss, he released her and set about digging through Gram's cupboards, figuring they'd had enough loaded moments for one night. "Let's get the fixings for some S'mores. Gram is waiting." He gave her an excited grin.
She returned his smile, grinning merrily as she watched him rummage around for the marshmallows. She stepped up behind him, and wrapped her arms around his waist in a hug. "Definitely." She agreed. "It's time to get to the good stuff."
--
The end (only for now though. I'm sure you'll agree that happy endings are always works in progress...)