A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting… this one's filler, but I'm going to try to wrap this story up in the next couple chapters.
She took the lead as they descended the stairs. They found Trish and Frank in the kitchen cutting peppers and onions.
"Mac!" Trish exclaimed, setting her knife on a cutting board and rounding the island to envelop the Marine in a hug.
Mac's surprised eyes met Harm's smiling I told you so as she returned the embrace.
"It's so nice to finally meet you!" Trish continued, releasing her.
The women shared a smile, "You too, Mrs. Burnett."
"Oh, please! It's Trish," she immediately responded.
"Okay, Trish," Mac took a breath, feeling she had to address their initial meeting, "About earlier… if we had known, we never would've-"
"Of course! It was bad timing," Trish waved her off, moving back to Frank's side.
Mac thanked God the other woman didn't let her finish. 'Never would have been having sex all over your house' was not something she wanted to say out loud, especially not to her boyfriend's mother.
"We're all adults, I think we can move on. As long as there are grandchildren in my future, you two can do what you want." Her eyes went to her son, noting the look the couple shared. "I apologize for being so forward, but when your only child is aproaching forty-"
"Mom!" Mac had to smile at his blush and what she imagined was a common interaction between the pair.
"So, what are your plans for the day?" Frank intervened.
Harm shrugged, looking at Mac for confirmation, "I don't think we had anything specific in mind. What about you? How long are you going to be here?"
"Just until the fifth," his mother chimed in, pulling a carton of milk out of the fridge. "We thought we would stop here on the way home to throw our little party on the third and attend the Millers' gathering on the fourth. We fly the rest of the way to La Jolla Wednesday evening."
"Your party?" Harm asked, taking a strawberry from a bowl on the island.
"Oh, yes! We only just started doing it – how long ago?" She looked to Frank.
"I think this will be the fourth year," he replied.
"That's right, dear," she smiled at her husband.
Frank continued, "After Liz had Taylor, the Millers' outing became more of a young family affair, so we started throwing a cocktail party on the third for the adults."
"Teresa will be so happy to see you!" Trish smiled at him, causing Mac to turn to him with a signature eyebrow raise.
"Liz's mom," he clarified.
"Oh," Mac smiled, turning her attention back to the kitchen, "Trish – I don't know if I have anything appropriate to wear, I might have to sit this one out."
"It's nothing formal, surely you have something?" She looked at Mac hopefully.
"I'm afraid I was confined to one tiny bag for luggage," she shot Harm a look, "and my dress from last night is dry clean only." Mac sighed, perching on a stool.
"Same goes for the suit I brought," Harm added, moving to her side with a shrug. "Mac and I can just hang out upstairs while you have the party."
"Harmon," she scooped some eggs onto a plate, "there are plenty of boutiques on this island, and you said you didn't have anything planned for the day." Trish waited for him to respond, continuing when stared dumbly at her, "Take Mac shopping, son. Buy her a dress. It's the least you can do."
His eyes dragged from his mother's stare to an expectant Mac, smiling on her stool. She liked Harm's mother; she liked her very much.
Mac groaned as she looked in the mirror at the first shop. None of the dresses fit. Correction – they fit her lower body, but the small bodices of the dresses barely covered her breasts. She was used to it and had found certain brands that worked for her, but doubted any of the boutiques on the island carried them.
"Did you try any of them on?" Harm asked, watching as she stepped out of the fitting room and hooked the rejected dresses on the return rack.
"Yeah," she smiled, "None of them fit."
"None of them?" Eyebrows raised, "Didn't you take like six dresses in there?"
"Yeah," she repeated, "None of them fit." Mac sighed, "We'll have to try another store."
He placed his hand on the small of her back as they exited, sliding it around her waist when they reached the sidewalk. "How can none of them have fit?"
Mac rolled her eyes. Men. "It's not that easy. I can't just grab my size from the rack."
"I know this is going to sounds stupid, but why?"
She grinned, "My legs may be a size 2, but my breasts are not. If I get a dress that flatters my waist, my boobs will hang out, and if I get a dress that fits my upper body, it's too big everywhere else."
"Oh… Can I at least see the dresses this time?" He asked, opening the door to another shop for her.
Her eyebrows raised, an amused smile spreading over her face, "You want a fashion show?"
"Well," he smiled back, "It's more fun than sitting awkwardly outside of the fitting rooms in an all-female boutique. I think everyone in the last store thought I was a weirdo until you came out. Plus," he moved closer, "I can provide the male perspective on the breast issue," Harm waggled his eyebrows.
She shook her head and rolled her eyes, "Ok, Flyboy."
Two stores later, Mac finally found a dress. The thigh high split of the flowing ivory skirt was the first thing that caught Harm's eye. He followed it to where the edges met and admired the brown, pink, and light blue flower pattern covering the garment. The halter bodice tied at the neck and was separated from the skirt by rouching at the waist.
She turned, simultaneously showing him the back, and looking in the mirror. "What do you think?"
"It's beautiful, Mac," he answered as he stood, "So beautiful I want to take it off of you." His voice dropped as he stepped closer.
"Later," she warned, placing her hands on his shoulders when they were face to face.
"You found a dress; can't we head back to the house?" The hands at her waist tugged her closer.
Mac's eyebrows raised, "You have a one-track mind, Sailor. Perhaps we should try to calm some of our urges." She paused with a smile, "Plus, I thought you needed a suit?"
He groaned in response, "You're right. On to the next store."
The couple dropped their bags unceremoniously on the dining table before collapsing on the sectional couch. "Is shopping with you always this exhausting?" Harm asked when she leaned on his shoulder.
"When I'm on a mission? Yes," she smiled up at him. Following the dress and suit purchases, they stopped to eat at a Café where Mac realized she needed a new pair of shoes to match her dress. That was the killer. Shoe shopping.
Trish and Frank came in from the patio. "It looks like you were successful," Trish commented, glancing at the bags on the table. "Frank made reservations at Lucille's for tonight, would you like to join us? I'm sure we can add two more."
The couple shared a tired look, "Thanks, mom, but I think we're going to stay in tonight."
"Ok, Harmon. We'll be out of your way in about an hour," She gently squeezed his shoulder as she moved behind them and turned down the hallway.
Trish and Frank returned from dinner to find the younger couple cuddled on the couch fast asleep. Mac's head was resting on Harm's shoulder, their legs stretched out on the long portion of the sectional while he held her against his side. The credits from a movie were rolling on the tv above the fireplace, and Trish reached quietly to turn it off.
She couldn't help but press a kiss to her son's head before turning in for the night. It seemed as though he had grown immensely over the past few years, and she knew the woman at his side was to thank for much of it.