Hi, everyone! I wanted to try writing ficlets again to help with some writer's block. Hope you like this one - thanks for reading!

Discussion about having kids Mac thinks harm should move on because she can't have kids but harm assures her there is no one else for him. - prompt from a fellow Tumblr user. Thank you for the prompt!

It was raining. It almost never rained in San Diego, but the water was spilling in torrents from the dark, angry clouds, and it didn't show any signs of letting up.

What a dreary day, Mac thought as she stood at the kitchen window, watching the raindrops splatter against the glass. Well, it will probably feel just like London to Harm.

The tea kettle whistled on the stove, and there was a knock at the door, and Mac hurried to answer it even though she knew it couldn't possibly be her husband already.

"Trish! Hi!"

"Hello, darling." Harm's mother stood just over the threshold, shaking out a very soggy umbrella. She stepped into the apartment and enveloped Mac in a friendly hug.

"Harm's not here yet," Mac explained. "His flight was delayed because of the weather. I was just making some tea...can I offer you a cup?"

"Tea would be lovely, dear," Trish said, rubbing her hands together for warmth. "Weather like this just chills us to the bone here in southern California."

"Harm's probably used to the rain by now," Mac said with a smile as she poured two steaming cups of tea.

"Well, it's about time my son came stateside again," Trish muttered. "How long has it been this time?"

"Three months, six days, four hours, and sixteen minutes," Mac said automatically.

Trish stared at her in wonder. "I don't know how you do that."

Mac grinned. "Neither does Harm."

"Well, I certainly hope that my future grandchild inherits your sense of timing and not Harm's." Trish accepted the cup of tea and stirred it thoughtfully, not noticing the color suddenly draining from Mac's face. "I swear, sometimes that son of mine is as thickheaded as his father was. He's made me wait quite long enough. I expect that he'll be doing his part to make sure a grandchild happens sooner rather than later, won't he?"

"Trish, I—I don't know if that's possible," Mac said quietly.

Trish looked up in alarm. "Why? What did he do this time?"

"Um, no, it's—it's not Harm."

Instantly Trish's expression turned to concern. "Mac?"

Mac twisted her hands nervously and took a sip of tea to settle the empty feeling in her stomach.

"I can't have children," she admitted. "It's endometriosis."

Trish let out a faint breath of surprise. "Oh, Mac, I'm so sorry. Does Harm know?" she asked tentatively.

Mac nodded, quickly brushing away a tear from her cheek. "He's known for a long time."

"Oh, darling," Trish whispered soothingly, wrapping her arms around Mac.

Mac closed her eyes and reveled for a moment in the comfort of Harm's mother's arms. She had accepted her condition at this point, but every so often the harsh reality caused the emotions to bubble up inside of her again.

"I think he always wanted a son," Mac said softly, "so he could teach his own son how to fly. I just wish I could give him that. He's the Force Judge Advocate of Naval Forces Europe. He should have everything he wants."

Trish rolled her eyes and waved her hand dramatically. "Mac, that doesn't matter to him, and I wouldn't care if he were the Force Judge Advocate of the universe. He's still my son, and he's still very much in love with his wife."

The words warmed her heart, and Mac sniffled sadly. "The doctors say I have, um, less than a four percent chance of getting pregnant."

"Four percent?" Trish asked. "There's still a chance then?"

"Just barely."

"Well, darling, then mathematically speaking, there's only one way to go about this." Trish winked at her daughter-in-law knowingly. "More practice."