A/N: Here's a little filler chapter. I feel like I had something else to say here, but given it's past my bedtime, I'll just post and think of it later.

Trust

Chapter 27: Melancholy Memories

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Mac set her mug of hot chocolate down on Harm's coffee table, a new one she hadn't seen before. She had known this moment would come eventually, when Harm would ask about Webb, his visit, the phone calls; it was just a matter of time. Instead of answering, she studied the new table, deciding It fit with the rest of his décor, but with a more mature design than the previous one. She rather liked it and wondered how long he'd had it and if he'd changed anything else since she'd been here.

The bathroom and bedroom were still separated by the glass blocks, with the louvered glass providing the illusion of privacy between the bedroom and the living area. It was so Harm, at least the Harm of old, but in her opinion, it no longer fit this more mature version. She took her eyes off the table and continued to evaluate the loft, taking in his new television set and DVD player, along with a new TV stand that complimented the new table.

"How long have you had the TV?" she asked absently. It surprised her that he had caved and bought one of the things she used to tease him about. She would tease him even more when he would come to her apartment and immediately turn hers on. He'd always tell her it was okay because he only watched educational shows. He'd proven that was a lie when she'd caught him watching When Harry Met Sally. She remembered that they had ended up watching it together, creating another memory that caused her pain. Things would never be like that between them again, and she grieved over it.

There were a lot of memories associated with Harm's apartment, really. It used to be fun, coming here to work on cases together. They would chat while he cooked her favorites, laughed over dessert, and only then would they finally get started on their work. These days she deliberately avoided working on cases here. Once again, too many happy memories making her sad.

"About three months," Harm spoke and Mac nodded, not really hearing him, only coming back to the present when he touched her arm and called her name.

"Oh! Sorry. I wasn't—what did you say?"

I said I've had the TV about three months now."

"And the table?"

"The same." He answered shortly. "Now, are you going to answer my question?"

"What question?"

I asked if you wanted to talk about it. About today."

"Oh." She looked down at her lap and shook her head. "Not really."

"Okay."

Mac turned toward him in surprise. "Just okay?"

"You don't want to talk about it. I respect that. I won't push."

Now Mac was more than surprised. Since when did Harm not push or get irritated when someone did not respond they way he wanted them to? Her expression must have mirrored her thoughts because Harm's own eyes widened. "What?" he asked, looking uncomfortable under her gaze.

"Who are you?" she questioned, her eyes still wide with surprise.

"Who am I? What do you mean?"

Mac blushed the faintest pink, something she hated to do in front of Harm. He used to tease her about while she pretended to mind. It was just another memory that was now laced with sadness, and she kept adding more memories to that list. Mentally shaking herself, she turned her thoughts away from the past and attempted to answer Harm's question.

"Um, I guess…I mean, before, you…well, you would push."

Harm shrugged. "I suppose over time I've learned you don't like if I push. If you want to talk to me about it sometime, I'll be here for you, but I won't bother you about it." He suddenly grinned. "No matter how much I want to."

Mac stared at him for a moment, then laid her hand on his arm. "Thank you, Harm. And thank you for today."

"You're welcome, Mac." He covered her hand with his own and she found herself getting lost in his eyes. At the moment, his eyes were the color of a calm sea, blue with a hint of green.

Mac had always been intrigued by Harm's eyes. They changed depending on his mood or what he was wearing. When he wore his summer uniform, his eyes were closer to grey-green, and when he wore his blues, his eyes would turn into a deep, endless type of blue that would make her insides quiver. They still made her insides quiver, to her chagrin. She didn't want to have those feelings anymore because once again, it hurt her too much.

"Harm?" she asked after a moment, knowing his eyes were still on her and feeling at once uncomfortable and warmed by his soft gaze.

"Yeah, hon, uh, Mac?" His thumb moved over her hand in soft strokes.

Mac ignored his slip and did her best to ignore his touch. "If I remember right, you promised me ice cream."

"That's right, I did." He looked reluctant to leave her side.

"And after that, I should head home."

Harm's expression turned to something that looked like frustration combined with sadness.

"Mac, I thought you were going to stay the night." Harm had offered her a night of relaxation, free from the worry of another phone call or visit from Webb. She was going to decline, but then words of acceptance fell from her mouth. She was still shaky from Webb's unwanted presence at JAG and being held by Harm had been so comforting. She had wanted to bask in that feeling a little longer, but now her mind was clearer and she realized she should have indeed refused. Staying with Harm didn't exactly fit the definition of "keeping her distance."

"Harm, I-I shouldn't be here."

Her answer obviously threw him.

"Why not, Mac? I invited you, didn't I?"

"You—you did. That isn't the problem."

"Then what is the problem? Tell me. Please tell me," he pleaded.

"It's complicated."

"Try me."

Mac shook her head. She should leave now. Just get up and leave, but it seemed her six was glued to Harm's couch. She shook her head again. "I can't, Harm. Look, thank you for dinner and for today and I need to go."

It wasn't until Harm's thumb gently brushed under her eye that she realized she was crying again. He then cupped her cheek, and she found herself turning into it as if she had no control over movements. "Mac, please stay. Please. I only want you to have a night to relax. I'm sorry. I said I wouldn't push you, and I just did and I'm sorry."

"That—that's okay," she sniffled, reaching up and wrapping her hands around his wrist as she had the night she'd stayed here to protect him from Palmer. He'd brushed her tears away then too as she cried over the recently "deceased" Webb, comforting her so sweetly as he stood there in just his boxers. How she'd longed that night to feel that well muscled body against her, to run her hands over his well-formed pecs, to tease him as she followed the hairs on his torso until they disappeared under those white navy-issued boxers. Maybe if she'd pursued him then, they wouldn't be here like this, with Harm trying so hard to be her friend and her trying so hard to push him away. Maybe Webb wouldn't have been banished to South America for helping them with the Angel Shark affair, and then he wouldn't have had to go anywhere near Paraguay and lose part of his soul, the part that was good and so impatiently kind. All that was left now in him was darkness, a darkness that had nearly destroyed her.

Mac felt his arms go around her for the second time that day, and in that moment, she knew she'd be staying the night. Not to sleep with him of course, but just to feel safe for the first time in weeks, months. She didn't even try to fight him as he pulled her against him and tucked her under his chin, and then she let the tears flow freely again.

It was a very relieved Harm that carried a sleeping Mac to his bed. If she were awake, she'd insist on taking the couch, and he didn't want to have that fight. Tonight was all about her getting some much-needed sleep and a much-needed break from all things Webb. Harm wasn't naïve enough to think Webb would just automatically stop trying to talk with her or see her, but at least tonight, she would not be disturbed.

Harm gently laid her on his bed and pulled the covers up, tucking them in around her. She murmured something in her sleep, then snuggled in, and Harm could resist brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and placing a kiss on her forehead. Her lips curved up into the tiniest of smiles, and Harm smiled too as he went into his bathroom to ready himself for bed as well.

Two weeks later…

Harm opened the doors to the bullpen, glad to be back after five days on the Henry. He'd just landed an hour ago, and once he reported in to Admiral Chegwidden, he intended to see if Mac wanted to get a bite to eat. He thought they could try a new deli that had opened a few blocks away. Hell, he'd even consent to go to Beltway Burgers if it would get her out of here. Grinning at the idea of watching her eat with gusto, Harm headed for the admiral's office, nodding at the several junior officers he passed on the way.

Once he was done with the admiral, he made his way to Mac's office. He was surprised her door was open, as he found her standing by the window, her back toward him. There was something about the set of her shoulders he didn't like; even from here, he could see they were tense, and there seemed to be such an aura of sadness about her. He wondered briefly if Webb had showed up again or if he was still calling her as frequently as she'd finally admitted he had been. She'd also finally admitted Webb's mother had showed up and actually slapped her. Harm nearly hopped in his car and drove over to Casa Webb to have it out with the old bat. Mac had stopped him, telling him neither of the Webb's were worth it, and she almost seemed angry herself that he was so angry on her behalf.

Harm, not wanting to startle her, knocked softly on her door frame, then called to her. She turned enough just to see him, giving him a nod and a tiny smile that didn't reach her eyes before turning back around. Harm stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

"Mac? Is something wrong?"

"No," was her quick, short reply that didn't fool him in the least. He walked up next to her and stared out the window as well.

"Mac…" he gently admonished, and she sighed heavily.

"It's nothing, Harm. Welcome back, by the way."

It's definitely not nothing, he told himself, but it took him a few moments to get up the courage to ask her more questions—especially these questions.

"Has Webb been here again?" Her shoulders, already stiff, tightened to the point she had to be in pain, and she shook her head.

"No. He's been calling again, and so has Porter, but I changed my numbers…again. I'll give them to you in a minute. Of course, it's not like he takes a long time to figure the new ones out, so I suppose I'll just have about two, three days of freedom. A week if he's on assignment."

"I'm sorry, Mac." He decided to change topics in hopes of cheering her up a little. "Hey, how 'bout we get out of here for lunch. There's a new deli a couple of blocks from here I'd like to try."

Still not directly facing him, she shook her head. "Not today, but thank you," she said to his disappointment.

"Are you su—" Don't push, Hammer. You told her you wouldn't push. "I mean, okay. If you like, I can bring you something—"

"No, I'm fine."

No, you're not.

"Well, then, I'll let you get back to it. I'm just a phone call away if you change your mind." He turned toward her door and pulled it open, almost crossing the threshold before he heard her speak in a near whisper.

"Today was my due date."

Oh, Mac…

He was back at her side in an instant.

"I'm so sorry, honey. I didn't know."

"That's all right. I've been trying to block it out, but it seems like everyone I've seen today has a baby or is just about too."

"I'm sorry," he repeated, not knowing what else to say. If things had been different, Mac would either have a baby or be gloriously and beautifully pregnant. He'd dreamt about her that way, at least weekly when he was flying, and he felt a lump forming in his throat.

"I'd probably have a baby by now, Harm. My Aidan."

"I know, sweetheart."

"Do you think I would have been a good mother?"

Her voice was thick and she sounded so tentative, and it broke his heart. Of course, she'd be a good mother. The best. The way she was with their godson—well, there was no doubt in his mind that Sarah MacKenzie would be the best mother out there, and maybe it was stupid, but he still hoped that one day he could give her the baby she so desired, the baby they both desired.

Harm pulled Mac into his arms. "You would have been the best. You'll be the best. I know it." He rubbed his arms up and down her back, grateful she was letting him hold her. She lingered in his embrace longer than he'd expected, then drew back.

"Thank you, Harm. Now, go and get yourself something to eat. It's probably been a while."

Harm let her go, but not before pulling her in for one last squeeze. "Yeah, it has. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay." She swiped at her eyes, and he automatically reached out to brush her tears away with his thumb. "Thank you," she whispered, and then he turned to go. Once again, he was nearly over the threshold before he heard her speak again.

"Hey, Harm?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think you could bring me back a turkey club and some chips?"

Harm smiled in surprise and happiness. "Will do, Mac."

"And maybe a brownie? Or a cookie. Chocolate chip if they have it. If they don't have either of those, get me anything as long as it doesn't have raisins. Oh, and I could use a coke too. Not that diet sh—uh, crap either."

"Jeez, Mac," he teased. "I think I'm gonna have to write this down and stop at the bank on the way."

Mac reached for her briefcase. "Oh, for goodness sake! I'll give you some money."

"Not on your life!" he grinned, then raced out her door, leaving a still melancholic Mac behind him, but at least now she was smiling for the first time since yesterday.

End Chapter 27