A/N: Another vignette. It's kinda boring, but I've wanted to do this little outtake from Miracles for a while. It's just our two lovers together and in love. Mac's at Harm's for an overnight break from her rehab, and Harm has a special question…

Vignette Five

Miracles: Home

"Hey, Sweetheart, we're here." I look over at the woman dozing next to me in my SUV, smiling at how peaceful she looks. I hate to wake her up; I know she didn't sleep all that much last night, but I can't wait to bring my love home. It's only for the night, but maybe if this goes well, she'll get to come home permanently before too long.

"Sarah, baby?" Her lips curve up into a smile as her eyes flutter open.

"Ho…Harm's…" Mac huffs in frustration and her brow furrows as she concentration as she tries say they right word. "H-Home?" She smiles when she meets with success.

I grin back at her. "Yeah, we are. Ready to go up?"

"Yes."

I turn the Lexus off and slide out from behind the wheel before going around to Mac's side. I help her down, bending and lifting her in one smooth motion as soon as her feet hit the ground. "I'll get you settled and then I'll come back down and get your bag and walker, okay?"

Mac scowls when I mention her walker; I know she hates using it, but she just doesn't have the stamina or balance to make it that far without it. "You…carry…me."

"Yeah, I am."

Mac shakes her head. "No." She points to my building.

"You want me to carry you around up there?"

Mac grins and nods her head.

"I'd love to, babe, but I suppose we should have you work on walking."

Mac fakes a pout and then shrugs. "Yes…I…I…walk. Dam..dammit."

I have to laugh at her little bit of profanity as she lays her head on my shoulder. Despite the hardships stemming from her accident, she's still my feisty marine.

Once we get into my loft, I set Mac on my couch. She looks tired out already and I wonder if I should have taken her out of the rehab hospital. Maybe it was selfish of me; I have something special planned for tonight and perhaps that overrode common sense.

"Mac? Are you sure you're up to this? Maybe it's too soon to be out? I feel like just the car ride over here wore you out. I can take you back."

She gasps at that and starts shaking her head. Tears actually start falling and I know I've made yet another colossal blunder. I sit down next to her and pull her into my side. "Mac, baby…I just worry. I don't want to take you back. I'd keep you here forever if I could. Oh, don't cry, sweetheart." I continue to hold her as I kiss her hair and run my hand up and down her arm. She's been more emotional since her accident, probably due to many things, not the least of which is her serious brain injury.

She doesn't cry all that long, thank goodness, but she does agree to a little nap. Once I have her tucked into my bed, I go down and retrieve her overnight bag and walker, and then I start working on lunch. I decide to go for foods not requiring much for silverware; Mac's getting better and better with her dexterity, but she can show me her skills at dinner.

Once I'm done with lunch preparations, I debate throwing a load of laundry in the washer or just relaxing while Mac sleeps. Relaxing wins out, so I sit on the couch with a book I started last week. Eventually I doze off, only to be startled awake by the sound of a fearful Mac.

"Harm?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"H-Help."

I take a closer look at her and see her already pale face has whitened further. She's standing at the top of the stairs that lead from my bedroom area and she looks scared.

It's the stairs, you idiot!" They're trying, but Mac has developed quite the phobia of staircases for obvious reasons. I should have remembered how Mac clung to me and hid her face when we came into the building and then when I took her up to bed earlier. There were only a couple of stairs for each, but that phobia runs deep.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry. Here." I walk over to her and pick her up, while she once again buries her face in my neck. "Here you go," I say as I set her back on the couch.

"Sor…sorry."

I sit down beside Mac and cup her cheek. "Mac, you don't have to be sorry."

"I…hate…it."

"I know you do. It's just going to take some time to get over that fear." Unfortunately, I doubt they'll let her go from rehab unless she can manage the stairs. Mac starts shaking her head.

"No…scared. Hate it."

Oh, sweetheart. She's always so hard on herself. I wrap my arm around her narrow shoulders and give her a squeeze. "I know, honey, but I have faith that you'll overcome the fear in time."

"Too…l-long." She rests her head on my shoulder for a few moments, then she straightens up and grins.

I grin back at her. "You want lunch, don't you." I stand then, ready to get my lady's meal ready. Her smile widens and she nods, holding her arms out to me. Reluctantly, I shake my head. "No, babe. Time to walk a little. She scowls a little but then shrugs her shoulders. She knows she needs to keep working on her mobility. I retrieve her walker and help her to stand. Part of her therapy involves her standing on her own, but my getting up from my couch is different then getting up from a chair. Once she's stable, I walk into my kitchen and quickly prepare her plate. By the time I have her food on the dining room table, she's three quarters of the way there, and I'm quite proud. Her speed and balance have improved dramatically in the last couple of weeks. As traumatized as she was by Mic Brumby's assault on her and attempted murder of me, once she realized it was all over, the mental blocks she'd put up faded and she was back to the determined woman I see before me now.

Lunch proceeds without incident and then it's on to dinner preparations. I have something special planned; at least I hope it''s special, and I'm getting nervous and excited and I don't even know what else. Mac must pick up on it all, for before she walks back to the couch, she pats my hand and tells me slowly that everything will be wonderful.

I do what I can as far as dinner goes, then join Mac on the couch. Soon I have her resting her head on a pillow in my lap, while my hand runs the length of her to her hip. I repeat the move over and over and I can feel her relaxing until her even breathing tells me she's asleep. Through all this, she has slept more than she ever has in her life, and I feel a lump forming in my throat when I think of the exhaustion she must feel at each day's end. They work her hard in rehab with multiple sessions of physical therapy, occupational therapy, and speech therapy daily. It's necessary, but lord, I wish she had it easier.

I check my watch and since I have a while before I need to do anything else I content myself with just touching Mac. Her hair is soft and sweetly cut now that her hair is growing back. She's tiny in a way that she's never been before; she's lost a lot of tone and muscle mass since her accident and her appetite is only now coming back. She's still so beautiful, but it's a beauty more delicate, though I can see her strength growing every day. Her eyes, those beautiful chocolate amber orbs, have been ever luminous, and for a while they were the only way she could communicate. Even now, when her voice is returning, they say so much. They say, 'I love you' and when I realized one night I'd seen that look in her eyes so many times, I went home cried over all the lost opportunities over the years. If I'd just understood, we could have avoided all the heartbreak she's endured for the last months.

I know it does no good to dwell on that, but dwell on it I do.

A few minutes later, Mac starts to stir, and I think she's waking up, but then I hear her whimper and I know she's having a nightmare. This happens a fair amount per the nurses on the rehab floor; I know Mac gets irritated when they tell me these things, but too bad. I want to know about her nightmares, her bad days, the times when she gets so frustrated all she can do is cry. I want to be there for her through good and bad times…hence why she's here this particular day…

Tonight, I'm going to ask Mac to marry me. I've thought about waiting until she's discharged from the rehab hospital, but I can't wait anymore. Maybe I want to give her something more to work toward…or maybe I just can't hold it in anymore.

Mac's whimpering has increased and she's moving around more restlessly, so I pull her up so she's sitting on my lap, cradled to my chest. I hold her tightly, calling her name, speaking words of comfort in her ear. She eventually settles, and then her eyes flutter open. There are tears running down her cheeks and when she lifts her head, I brush them aside with my thumb. "Nightmare, sweetie?" She nods, then rests her head on my shoulder again.

"You want to talk about it?" I ask, then feel her shake her head in the negative. "Mac," I say. "It might help."

"No. Mic."

"Your dream was about him?"

"Uh-huh."

"Ah." She never wants to talk about those dreams. I hope someday she will, as does her therapist, but I suppose all in good time.

I hold her for several more minutes, but then it's time to complete dinner preparations…and proposal preparations. "Mac, I have a few more things to get ready for dinner…but first I have something for you." I lift her from my lap and set her next to me. "Just give me a sec and then I'll come get you, okay?" Mac nods and then I head into my bedroom and to my closet. I pull out a garment bag from one of Mac's favorite stores. I had Harriet help me with this; she has an uncanny ability to know exactly what size someone is just by looking at them. Given Mac is quite a bit thinner than she was prior to her accident, I needed the assistance. It was a bit odd shopping with another man's wife, but her help was invaluable, and I hope Mac likes what we picked out for her.

I finish setting her dress out on the bed and then I get Mac. This time I carry her given she'll have to go up and down stairs, and once she lifts her face from my neck, she sees the dress. Her eyes light up and she grins, then kisses me on the cheek.

"I'll help you dress, okay?" I tell her as I sit her down on the bed. She shakes her head.

"I…will. You help with…with…" Her brow furrows and her lips try to form a word, until finally she throws her hands up. She flips the dress over and points to the zipper.

"Sure, Mac. I'm going to get dressed in the bathroom real quick, then I'll be back in a few, okay?" She nods, and then I leave her be.

Several minutes later, I'm dressed, dinner is on the table, the candles are lit, and the ring is in my pocket. My heart is fluttering in my chest, and I wonder how long I'll be able to wait before I can't take it anymore and pop the question. I'd like to at least get through the main course…

Mac is ready except for the zipper on the back of her dress. I make short work of that and then carry her to her chair. She looks delighted by the meal. It's one of her favorites—not overly difficult to eat, either. We eat mostly quietly, although I tell her often how beautiful she is, while she smiles and squeezes my hand. Dinner takes longer than the average given her disabilities, but it gives me more time to admire her in the candlelight…and it lets me work up the courage to ask that all important question. Now that the moment is almost upon me, I'm getting more nervous and my earlier worry about just blurting it out is replaced with a different kind of worry. What if she says no? What if she's just not ready?

Well, I'm ready. It's time to push the fears aside.

The main course is now complete and it's time for dessert. I stand up and come around to Mac's other side. She looks up expectantly at me and I run my hand over her hair. "Mac?"

"Yes?"

"Before I get dessert, I want to talk about something with you."

Her brow then furrows with concern, and I cup her cheek for a brief moment, and then I reach into the inner pocket of my suit jacket and pull out the little blue box therein. Mac's eyes widen and her mouth drops open at the same time I drop down to one knee and take her hand in mine.

"Mac, darling...the last few months have been the most difficult of our lives. We found our way to each other only to have it all ripped away from each other. I was so sure I was going to lose you, but then we got our miracle—and it was a miracle, Mac. If I had…if I had…lost you, I would have lost myself too. I can't imagine a life without you in it, Mac…and I hope I never have to. Mac…Sarah…will you marry me?"

I look up into Mac's eyes then and I see tears spilling over. She's smiling though, and then she's nodding, and suddenly she's in my arms. I hold her tightly, my own tears falling, and when we finally break apart, I slip her engagement ring on her finger, and then she's in my arms again, kissing me. We spend the rest of the evening on the couch, kissing and touching, and I don't think I've ever been happier.

A couple hours later, Mac and I lie in bed together, her in the new silk pajamas I bought her the day Harriet and I got her dress. She turns a little and I help her up onto her side. She snuggles up to me, and I see the glitter of her ring in the light from the street. Her hand rests on my chest, and she's grinning at me.

"What," I say, grinning back.

"Harm?"

"Yes, my love?"

"I love you."

The words come out clear and fluent, like she never had her accident, and once again, my eyes are tearing up. I lean in to kiss her, and then we settle down into the bed.

"I love you too, Mac…my miracle."

And then we sleep.

End